


The Cupbearer(s)

by sparklight



Series: Courting Ganymede [2]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Background Zeus/Hera, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Ensemble Cast, First Time, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Power Dynamics, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: For Ganymede, Olympos and its lord could just as well be an underwater abyss for as deeply unfamiliar and mysterious as both are to him. As he settles in and starts to learn, though, perhaps the water isn't so deep, the chasm not so strange and dark.For Zeus, Ganymede is an exception.
Relationships: Ganymede & Apollo, Ganymede & Hebe, Ganymede/Zeus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: Courting Ganymede [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672690
Comments: 18
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This follows right after The Price of Beauty, but the only thing you're missing if you don't read that is the fact that Zeus kissed Ganymede silly after snatching him up, and other events will only be referenced in this fic. The last chapter is the only explicit one; the rest of the fic is a G/T-rating and focuses on romance.
> 
> For something of a cover for this fic [check this out](https://sparklight.dreamwidth.org/10523.html?thread=8731#cmt8731).

The kiss he'd pulled Ganymede into still burned on his lips.

It would have been humiliating that a mortal youth, something that had never caught his eyes before, had left such an impression, soft and yielding with startling eagerness considered the situation, and yet, with some core of resistance. Would have been, if it hadn’t been for the young man's beauty. He really _could_ have been born one of them; the only thing that assured that he wasn't was the lack of glow to him, no sense of power under his skin at all, as well as the way he'd struggled to keep running when Zeus had chased him down on Mount Ida.

That he'd ran for so long had been both amusing and a little impressive, and Zeus had let him tire himself out for safety's sake. He could have snatched him in flight, both his and Ganymede's, but that might have risked injury to soft, perfect flesh. He couldn't have that. Aside from the blemish it might leave if ambrosia and nectar couldn't take care of it, he didn't want to have the boy fear harm from him.

He _should_ fear harm. Should be still with fearful awe, but that, Zeus found, wasn't something he wished to either see on Ganymede's face or inspire in his heart.

It was... somewhat of an unfamiliar circumstance. Not that he would usually ever demand fear from any of his trysts, immortal or mortal, but his position alone _should_ instill some sense of respect and, yes, fear. He enjoyed softening that into uncomplicated delight at his presence and for the pleasure he gave, which happened in the best of circumstances. That he found himself unwanting of starting out as such this time, aside from having scared the boy by his method of abduction, was, again, unfamiliar. But then, as he'd been observing Ganymede for a year, unable to either stop or convince himself to act until now, this whole thing was quite unusual, completely aside from Ganymede not being a woman. He did not linger in indecision and captivation for a year, doing nothing. Except, apparently, he did.

It was what had had him suspecting either Eros' or Aphrodite's interference, even when the other times either of them had had their hands in his pursuits he certainly had never lingered for so long without acting. Really, if they'd been responsible for this he would have swept down and ravished the boy at first opportunity after warning Eos off. It would simply not have mattered then that he'd never before felt any lust for a pretty youth like Ganymede. He would have been left to be consternated about it only afterwards.

So really, Zeus had known there'd been neither conventional arrow nor Aphrodite's more subtle influence in this. He'd still somewhat hoped, if merely because that would have made things simpler. More understandable. The boy would have been taken either way; he hadn't been lying to Ganymede as to the reason for taking him. It would simply have been the whole and complete reason instead of being only part of one.

It wasn’t the whole reason though, no matter how long he'd hesitated to act. Not with the memory of that lithe body pressed against his, flat and firm in unfamiliar ways, softly yielding in others, both familiar and not. Not with the sensation of full lips still lingering on his own, stubbornly refusing to fade. Few would have left such impressions, even less a mortal. Humiliating. And yet, as he glanced down at Ganymede while he herded him up the stairs of the verandah and the young man tilted his head to briefly meet his eyes before he quickly looked away again, Zeus found himself helpless to hold onto the insult. Those wide green eyes, deeper jewel tones suggested in the depths that might be brought forth with immortality, even with just a bare flash as it had been, completely disarmed him.

Ganymede's steps slowed as they entered the room, but Zeus let him pause to look around while he continued deeper in, pulling a diphros from where it stood folded against the back of the wide frame of the bed and unfolded it. Perhaps with slightly more force than necessary to judge by the way Ganymede jumped, returning his full attention to him. As it should be. As he would rather it not be, for those green eyes were arresting, and the wary, earnest curiosity was charming. Zeus sat down, leaned forward to rest his lower arms on his spread thighs, and took a moment to just look Ganymede over.

He had of course seen plenty of him since that day when he'd spotted Eos hovering very conspicuously around the Troad and had taken the time to see what had caught her interest. That it had been a young man hadn't been surprising, for that was usually the case. That _he_ should be as captivated as she was had taken him by utter surprise and complete confusion. Over three hundred years, and not once before had he been taken by anything but the beautiful curves and lovely faces of women.

Perhaps it had been inevitable. That it should take a beauty of Ganymede's caliber to stir him did at least soothe his soreness a little.

For the boy _was_ stunning, with a gently oval face that had enough of a suggestion of cheekbones and cut edge at the jaw to add a captivating dash of interest, something that made it not quite as sweetly soft as a young woman's might be. The sweep of his throat was elegant, not quite delicate, the curve of it just set off enough by the apple of his throat to again make sure any onlooker knew they were looking at a young man. It should have been distracting; it was merely as fitting to the rest as the flat, slender sweep of Ganymede's chest, hidden under the fall of the white and red-checked tunic was. His fingers itched to pull it off, but for that exact reason Zeus suppressed the urge, pulling his fingers in towards his palms, digging his nails in. The delicate whorl inside and the curve of Ganymede's ears, mostly hidden behind the fall of his hyacinthine curls, the shape of his knees, the tapering of his fingers - things many might not think to see, or think of as beautiful, but even these could rival immortal perfection.

Closing his eyes, Zeus suppressed a sigh, and when he finally opened them again, any wariness in Ganymede's face had been replaced by confusion... and perhaps some impatience. As soon as their eyes met Ganymede looked away, however, teeth catching the sweetly rounded swell of his bottom lip. Which was not helpful, if Ganymede was hoping to avoid his attention.

A flash of green from under the fall of curls of Ganymede's ducked head, through the barrier of lashes, and Zeus realized that maybe, he wasn't fully interested in avoiding it so much as being uncertain of it, of which there were many reasons to be.

Suppressing any thought or feeling about that, he gestured Ganymede to come closer instead, for there were other things to deal with before he had to, if only temporary, leave the boy alone. Not what he wanted to, so soon after bringing Ganymede up here, but he could not just put everything else on hold. Even if that would surely be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, given the urge to tug the young man closer, in between his knees, when Ganymede stopped in front of him. Later. Or maybe later these unexpected desires would finally have settled, disappearing not quite as soon as they'd appeared now that Ganymede was actually on Olympos - familiarity and all that. Never mind that he _had_ been observing the boy for a year and was plenty familiar with the looks of him and at least some of his mannerisms and personality.

"My lord..?"

He would have to devise some reason to have Ganymede talk at length, for his voice was a pleasure to listen to. It sounded pleasant even when he was yelling in exasperated fear while being chased around a mountain meadow, but that was hardly the usual circumstance he'd want to hear Ganymede's voice in. There were so many far more pleasant possibilities--- All right, no. He needed to focus on practical matters, not the confusing desires of his heart and flesh.

"Patience, Ganymede," Zeus said with a smirk, which only widened as Ganymede pulled a tiny little moue of a face before he schooled his expression into earnest obedience. 

Well, mostly. 

He was a delight already, honestly. Zeus turned around and picked up the empty kantharos that stood on a tray at the end of the bed, tipping it carelessly as he settled properly forwards again. It would soon not be empty, but for the moment there was nothing but the steep angles down towards the curving bottom of the silver cup, its outside and bottom decorated by fish and birds. The metal warmed under his fingers as Zeus took a better hold on it, holding it up between himself and the mortal youth.

The air took on a distant, soft hum of busy bees gathered tightly in their hive. The faint sweetness that suffused Olympos coalesced for a moment, lingering in their noses, on their tongues, while Zeus frowned and closed his other, empty hand as if grabbing something. Ganymede, rubbing one of his ears, leaned forward without trying to look like he was doing so, and thus caught the moment the kantharos filled. Shimmering rose gold liquid covered the fish chasing each other in the bottom of the cup until it was a little over half-full, poured from no jug but nonetheless there, now. Zeus' hand, too, was no longer empty, and he unfolded his fingers to reveal something that could have looked like a ball of sweet, fluffy dough if not for the fact it was deep gold like honey. Not the finest version of either ambrosia or nectar, being only the raw versions of each as they'd been pulled directly out of the ether from the interaction of Zeus' essence with the atoms in the air, but it would do for now. Ganymede would certainly not want for either the finest of either immortal or mortal food and drink.

"Is that..." Ganymede didn't finish, staring wide-eyed and wary, now, shifting on his feet a little but not moving away. Interested, but nervous about the prospect of eating something reserved for the Deathless Ones, most probably. Still, he didn't take his eyes away from the food, and the reason why was quite obvious when a soft little noise came from Ganymede’s stomach a second later. The boy coloured and ducked his head. "Sorry!"

Laughing, Zeus shook his head and held the ambrosia out, squashing the urge to break off pieces by himself and feed them, bit by bit, to Ganymede. "Nectar and ambrosia, yes. And there's no need to apologize for your body's needs, Ganymede. Given the time of day, I assume you haven't had anything to eat since morning. So eat."

It wasn't a suggestion, and while Ganymede still hesitated for a beat before he picked up the raw clump of shimmering, golden ambrosia, almost as large as the boy's closed fist and probably having looked smaller in Zeus' hand, it was probably less hunger than obedience that had him obeying. At least to start with. He broke off only a small piece at first, careful but unable to deny himself. The ambrosia tore like it really was the softest of fine bread, though it was certainly a lot more dense than that, and brought with it a rush of fresh sweetness to the air. That Ganymede still took a hesitant moment to actually chew the little piece he'd taken for himself was impressive; mortals exposed to ambrosia or nectar usually fell on it like starving, whether they knew what it was or not. His Trojan prince wasn't entirely immune though, for as soon as he _did_ take that first proper bite, Zeus would probably have had to restrain him to stop him from eating the rest. Ganymede still broke each piece off with some weighted care, probably thanks to being observed, but for as little as Ganymede could now be stopped from finishing his probably far too small in his opinion first clump of ambrosia, exactly as little was Zeus willing to afford the prince some privacy.

It wasn't just for the pleasure of watching slender, clever fingers break off one piece of ambrosia after the other, and not only for the tempting way Ganymede's mouth opened and then closed, his lips sucked in briefly against each other as if to savour every last bit of taste. Too, it wasn't even for the sight of Ganymede swallowing, the way the apple of his throat bobbed. Well, maybe partially those things as well, for the young man really was a most pleasant sight, but mostly it was to see the subtle smoothing, the faint, pleased flush that came to Ganymede's cheeks, along with just the barest shimmer to his hair and skin. The first steps to making sure Ganymede shed his mortality.

"Here. Drink." Zeus offered the kantharos of nectar when Ganymede was done with the ambrosia, and that disappeared with a lot less hesitation. When the cup was lowered Ganymede looked at it like he was surprised he'd drunk until it was empty. Smiling, Zeus found himself reaching out before he thought better about it and brushed a couple curls away from Ganymede’s face to hook them behind his ear. One promptly sprung free and fell with feathery grace against Ganymede's cheek, and perhaps he'd made a mistake, for the way that single curl now framed Ganymede's face and emphasized the slope of his cheek... "There. Better?"

No, the mistake had been in giving the boy food, in bringing him here, in seeing him at all that first time; Ganymede looked up and smiled, a shyly blooming brightness that radiated his satiated pleasure.

"Yes. Thank you, piḫaššaššiš."

It was a mistake Zeus would not change for anything, regardless of the confusion he'd been saddled with.

"There will be more and better later, but for now it will do," Zeus said and stood up, "I will be back later this afternoon; feel free to look around, but stay within the rooms in this corridor and the garden outside for now, until I can properly introduce you. Take a bath."

He gestured towards the doors on the other side of the room and was graced with another one of Ganymede's silently challenging raised eyebrows, but the look that came as he glanced towards the door was more considering than not. Good.

"All right. How long..?"

"A day or two, no more." Zeus, ready to leave, still didn't move as he found himself just staring down at Ganymede again. Slowly, he reached out, fingers brushing along a soft, smoothly bare cheek, feeling Ganymede shiver in the wake of the touch. A knuckle bumped against the curl that had escaped his attempt at tucking Ganymede's hair away while his eyes were locked to Ganymede's lips. Wetting his own, Zeus pulled away and left.

He wasn't fleeing; he truly had other matters to attend to, that was all.

###### 

  
Ganymede wasn't sure whether he was disappointed or relieved Zeus hadn't kissed him before he left.

He could swear he'd been about to do it, mercury gaze practically pinning him in place and the large, surprisingly gentle hand to his cheek... Though maybe 'surprisingly gentle' wasn't the right words, to be honest. Zeus had been gentle since he'd snatched him up, if one discounted all the chasing and diving after him before he did grab him. _Why_ had he done it like that, anyway? Couldn't he just have snatched him up while he was running? He would at least not have exhausted himself, and...

Pausing, Ganymede lifted an arm, tipped his head towards the armpit, and then grimaced. Okay, so maybe there'd been something in the comment (command) about taking a bath. The wind during the flight had cooled and dried him, but there was still a film of dried sweat all over him, which he was starting to notice now that there was little else to call his attention. Little else but this huge, stunning room, Zeus saying he was _going to introduce him_ , and the comfortable warmth of a full belly. Ganymede looked down at the kantharos in his hands, incredulous, still, that he'd eaten and drunk the food and drink of the Deathless Ones. There remained a rosy shimmer at the bottom of the cup, and there was also a sudden urge to stick his finger in there and wipe it up. What was he, a child?

With a couple firm steps, Ganymede stepped up to the end of the bed so he could put the kantharos back on the tray, silver like the cup was and worked with delicate detail around the rim with vines and heavy bunches of grapes. They almost looked life-like, so careful was the molding done, and even if it was a small, nearly insignificant thing, it rather exemplified his new surroundings.

The room was large and airy, more similar to what Ganymede would expect of the central or ceremonial spaces than the personal ones, but on the other hand, he would not at all be surprised to find everything like this... and not just because the gods were surely all much taller than he was, if not all to the same height as Zeus. The bed stood up against a bare wall, stylized lilies running along the top of the walls all around the room, with two of the other walls covered by frescos. The bull-leaping one was impressive, but Ganymede was already fond of the cliff-side view painted on the other, showing ocean and sky both. It wasn't any view he recognized, but it was still familiar in the way of growing up beside the ocean made it. There was a pillared section out towards the garden, but if he was going to take a bath, that wasn't where he was going.

Ganymede could admit he was sort of grateful for the direction in Zeus' command, if he was to be honest. Without it, he would undoubtedly have wandered the corridor and the rooms within the space Zeus had told him to remain, without even really taking anything in, again and again. He felt... kind of weightless, in an unsettling way, so crossing the room and opening the door Zeus had gestured to, focusing on the practical concept of _taking a bath_ , was a lot easier than any of the other things that loomed just beyond.

Of course, it couldn't be that simple.

Not that the space beyond the door wasn't recognizable as a bath, and a shamelessly luxurious such he wouldn't even expect to find at home--- at Troy? Shying away from that tangled uneasiness, Ganymede stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The ceiling was decorated with many mosaic tiles of various sea life, most of which he didn't recognize despite certainly having eaten quite a bit of seafood in his life, and the floor and walls both were covered in stylized waves. It was rather relaxing. The bathtub was more of a full pool, at least to Ganymede, and sunken into the floor; he would probably be able to swim a little from one end to the other. The only problem was... a second look around revealed no obvious source of water, and it didn't seem likely one of the other rooms in the corridor would have it either. The garden? Maybe. He wasn't about to go roaming in search of water before he'd had a full look in here, though.

Second problem; while there was a familiar, free-standing washbasin on a short pillar that was probably not too high for him to comfortably use for a quicker washing, Ganymede couldn't see anything that... well. Looked to be a toilet. Were they elsewhere? Even if they were, he couldn't ask about _that_! Grimacing, he walked over to the washbasin for now. Was annoyed to realize he'd need a footstool or something to reach more comfortably, but for now he suffered feeling like a child as he stood up on tiptoe. There was a plug in the bottom of the basin. Pursing his lips, Ganymede plucked it out - despite half expecting it, he still jumped at the gurgle of water that spilled up from the uncovered hole in the bottom, and quickly put the plug back.

If it was that simple for the washbasin, surely the bath shouldn't be so difficult either?

Since Ganymede now had an idea what he was looking for, it really didn't take long to figure out to stop up the bottom of the large pool and find that the weird spouts that curved out over the bath would let water spill into the sunken tub. More than that, not just cold water, but _hot_ , as well. That was truly the next amazing discovery, that he wouldn't have to suffer a cold wash and later figure out how to get this temptingly large pool filled out with warm water; he could do so _right now_.

That resolved and considering the time it'd take for the pool to fill, Ganymede actually did make use of the washbasin after finding a footrest to use. Snagging what at least looked like soap from the edge along the pool where a couple other supplies were, he cleaned off using the basin, tolerating the cold water with the knowledge there'd be a hot soak after. The soap smelled strangely similar to the ambrosia he'd eaten earlier, but it was solid like he'd expect soap to be, so maybe it was just scented the same. Poking around the bottles along the edge, Ganymede finally chose one that _didn't_ seem like it was the sort of oil used after a bath and poured some in after the pool was full enough, and then stepped down the three steps, sank onto the handy ledge---

Cursed, startled as he swallowed water before kicking upright again, for it was too deep for him. Settled on one of the steps of the stair instead, which put him at a good height, and closed his eyes.

This was nice. If it weren't for the tantalising scent in the air that came from the oil he'd poured into the water, unfamiliar but headily pleasant, he could almost take it for a bath at home. Stretching his legs out quickly brought reality back, for he would not be able to do that with such ease at home. Ganymede stubbornly kept his eyes closed, pushed away the circling threat of homesickness, and sank deeper into the water lapping at his shoulders, breathing in sweet-smelling steam.

What was he even going to be doing here? Zeus hadn't said. Surely he wasn't just going to be left to his own devises? Or would it be enough, if Zeus got from him what the kiss implied he wanted?

Blushing darkly enough to rival the flush already turning his olive skin ruddy from the heat of the water, Ganymede pushed off the stairs and dove under the surface.

Escaping the air couldn't free him from his thoughts however, and neither from the memory of the kiss, or the way it'd left him breathless. He'd liked it. Liked Zeus' large hands, liked the towering presence of the god, liked the broad, solid body, so tall and plainly _huge_ compared to himself. He'd _liked it_. He knew that much, even if this situation wasn't at all what he really would have liked... right? It was just so incomprehensible, to apparently be worthy of being here, on Olympos, regardless of the reason. For all the stories he'd heard of Zeus' trysts, immortal and some mortal alike, he did not bring his consorts to Olympos, unless he'd already been married to them!

Yet here _he_ was, and all that had happened so far was a kiss.

A kiss. That made it sound so simple, so dismissive of the experience it'd actually been. A _kiss_ didn't actually do it justice in the least. His lips were tingling again. With a groan that exploded out in bubbles around him Ganymede pushed off up to the surface, breaking it with a gasp to draw air to burning lungs. Turning over onto his back, Ganymede floated in the warm water as his breathing calmed, staring up at the myriad of mosaic sealife on the ceiling, captured by the intricate design of unfamiliar and familiar creatures all.

He'd just have to ask what Zeus expected when he came back. He could do that. He _would_ do that. He was a prince of Troy, not a shaking peasant!

Even if, really, there was no difference for the man unarmed and standing in front of an overwhelming enemy if he was peasant or king; they could all be overpowered. Even more so if you were young, boy or girl. Like back when... Grimacing, Ganymede almost accidentally drowned himself when he turned around and tried to put his feet on the bottom, forgetting the pool was too deep. Sputtering, he shoved sodden curls away from his face. He did _not_ want to compare this to his experience with the King of Crete! Comparing a mortal man to the King of the Gods seemed like it must touch on _some_ sort of hubris, surely, and beyond that, it was just so vastly different to be brought to Olympos than what might have happened if Minos had gotten away with him to Crete.

(He hoped so, anyway.)

Taking a few, short laps around the pool and then diving under again as he swam over to the stairs, Ganymede got out of the bath, found a soft, dry blanket to use for a towel in a chest against the wall near the door, and poked around the bottles he figured were for after-bath use. All of them smelled a little like nectar, but there were other scents as well, and after a couple moments of indecision he took the one that seemed the least florally sweet. It was in the middle of massaging the oil in that Ganymede realized something was different. His hands ran too smoothly over his skin. Sure, the oil was supposed to do that, but... Looking down, stretching a leg out, Ganymede was flabbergasted to find himself lacking what hair had been growing for the last three years. Baffled, he looked a little further down with a quick, alarmed glance, but no. He did still had the soft nest of curls around his dick, which was weirdly reassuring. Elsewhere, he was softer and smoother than he'd been in his whole life, even _before_ he'd started to grow up. Sure, it did look a lot more elegant, he supposed, but it was just... kinda weird. 

Giving up with a loud sigh, he accepted the situation as it was, for it was surely too late to change anything about it anyway, and finished what he'd been doing. Judging his tunic still nice enough to wear, he pulled it back on before he tackled his curls. That, at least, was easy to fall into with meditative calm, just going through the motions while he sat on the warm floor, listening to the water drain from the pool.

Afterwards, Ganymede went exploring, if not without a thoughtful rub over his cheeks before he left the bathroom. The thing was, he really couldn't tell if he was smoother there than before, for beards growing in late and being a little sparse on the ground even when they did so was certainly a thing in his family. Ilus hadn't had to start to shave regularly until about two years ago, or something like that. Honestly, he cared less about that; as much as he'd found he liked beards on _other men_ , the idea that he'd have to wrestle with shaving and the sensation of it on his own face had been less than attractive, so if this might meant he just wouldn't grow one? Ganymede was fine with that.

Two chests in the bedroom revealed piles of very nice kilts and tunics, though the patterning was definitely distinctly Achaean and lacked the fringework he'd grown up with. They were softer than anything he'd ever touched before, and while it was tempting to pull any of them out to try on, Ganymede instead closed the chests with a bit of a cringe. He felt too mortal, still, for _that_. He wouldn't be able to avoid the bed (he was hardly so self-sacrificing as to sleep on the floor), which, after an experimental pat and stroke of his hand, revealed itself to be just as nicely furnished, if not nicer, as the clothes. He could deal with that later, at least; he wasn't sleepy, and he wanted to check the rest of the space he currently had available.

It gave him something to do with the restless energy that was returning after the bath, even if there wasn't that much to see. The three other rooms in the corridor, large but not as large as either the bedroom or the bath, explained why the corridor was so long even with so few rooms. Sparsely furnished, one had a couple instruments up on a table or two and shelves, another nothing more than a desk and empty shelves with nooks for scrolls. The third had a set of three couches facing the surprisingly large window, giving a stunning view of the mountainside and the sky. It was all very airy, some of the smaller mosaics using precious gems by their colours and polished gleam, the frescoes painted both with startling detail and admirable skill as well as using a beautiful array of colours. It was, in some ways, very familiar in a reassuring way. In others, as Ganymede went through the space and glanced towards the door at the end of the corridor every time he exited a room to go into another, unsettlingly _un_ familiar and reminding him he was nowhere near home.

The garden, for all that the grass and clover and moss on the ground was short enough it made it easy to walk over the springy-soft ground and invited to laying down on it, seemed half-wild, only one obvious but nearly haphazardly made path of flat stones leading through it in winding fashion. A couple apple trees, already finished blooming, stood in one corner, a laurel towered a little bit off-center and the many, many bushes, most of them flowering along with the flowers growing around them, turned the place into something of a labyrinth. Not enough to get lost in, but it invited to be walked around and through and hid things from view to be found only if one actually looked.

The space smelled of flowers and that same, faint sweetness that seemed to suffuse much of everything around him, a pleasantly-scented perfume that was both fitting and, again, a reminder of where he was. Despite that he'd judged himself not tired, Ganymede, after ending up on the soft, cushioning ground, still fell asleep to the faint buzzing of bees bobbing from flower to flower in the bushes behind him.

He woke up with a shiver and a shadow cast over him. Looked up with sleepy confusion, and blushed at the indulgently amused look on Zeus face where he stood above him. Towered, more like.

"My lord! S-sorry, I---!" He couldn't even feel embarrassed for the startled squeak as he scrambled to his feet, but a hand on his shoulder, as much helping him the last bit upright as it paused him, cut him off.

"Peace, Ganymede. I _would_ rather you feel relaxed enough to be able to fall asleep than sit around tense and waiting."

That was... surprising. Not sure what he would have expected before that comment and now not being able to think of any other possible variation coming out of Zeus' mouth aside from feeling that he _had_ expected some more stern expectation of having been waiting for Zeus' reappearance, Ganymede nodded, nearly automatically. Zeus' hand went from his shoulder to the small of his back, propelling him past the collection of bushes he'd been sleeping by.

"Come. Sit, my prince."

There was a marble bench half hidden among another collection of bushes and Ganymede could swear he had been by earlier and seen no bench, but honestly, what did it matter? He was a little more distracted by the way Zeus kept using that title, the way his voice dropped a little when he said it, making it less polite respect and more something... possessive? Maybe. Biting his lip, Ganymede wondered at the tone, as well as the way his stomach fluttered hearing it.

Sitting down on the bench, Zeus followed and put a tray down between them. Two kantharoi filled with nectar, more deeply red-gold than the cup of nectar had been earlier today, a platter of several wide, flat and round pieces of golden-brown loaves; they smelled as much of bread, and deliciously so, as they did of ambrosia, and lastly a little bowl with a veritable tower of what seemed to be nut cookies. Ganymede was deeply tempted to go for the cookies first, but he picked up one of the loaves first, very determinedly not looking up to seek permission, but as he fingered it in his hands, he still glanced up past the curls dangling down over his forehead.

"What am I to do, here?" Ganymede asked, voice quiet but clear, and he was rather ridiculously pleased about it. "Or am I really so comely I could just walk around your palace every day and that would be enough of a service rendered, my lord?"

The arched eyebrow and faintly pointed edge hadn't been planned, far too revealing as they were, and Ganymede ducked his head, shoulders tensing and cheeks burning when he caught himself, embarrassed and worried in turn. The situation was just... awkward and confusing and he felt a little out of sorts, so behaviour that was more fitting for home was apparently slipping out past his better judgement. It was also, admittedly, because Zeus had certainly not behaved with anything but easy indulgence so far, but that didn't mean he would countenance such a tone or words!

Surprisingly, or perhaps not surprising at all, there was a low, rumbling chuckle from the god seated beside him. Ganymede saw the hand in the corner of his vision before it touched him, and he didn't lean away as large fingers lightly grasped his chin and tipped his face back up to meet shaded gray eyes.

"Rest assured that you both are more than enough blessed with beauty that you could do exactly that, and would gift anyone you passed with delight at even a bare glance of you, and that I could well allow that to be the extent of your service," Zeus said, and while he was grinning, there was indeed seriousness in his tone, "but that would hardly be a position of fitting honour for a prince of Troy. No, you'll take the position as cupbearer in my house."

The lingering grip on his chin, the soft, large tip of Zeus' thumb sliding up to press near the corner of his mouth before he let go, suggested something else, but Zeus said nothing more despite that Ganymede was sure he'd caught his eyes dropping down lower on his face, away from Ganymede's own for a moment. Aside from that, and whatever he might think of it, Ganymede found himself both relieved and surprised.

"... Thank you, piḫaššaššiš." That _was_ indeed a fitting position, one with real honour and revealing that Zeus was willing to extend trust, and a surprising amount of it - even if, naturally, Zeus and the other gods had surely less to worry about so the services a cupbearer usually rendered was more ceremonial, here. But... "Isn't your youngest daughter..?"

Zeus smiled wryly and picked up one of the kantharoi, tipping it with seeming carelessness in acknowledgement. "Hebe is my current cupbearer, yes. She's also old enough to begin to have other concerns, and she also waits at her mother's side as needed. She won't be ill-served by having more time for herself."

Ganymede opened his mouth, then closed it. Nodded and tore off a piece of the ambrosial bread instead, shoving it into his mouth - at which point his concern about what Hebe might actually think of this decision momentarily melted in favour of chewing the nearly cloud-like bread, soft but still filling. Ate half of the loaf before he paused and, considering how final Zeus' tone had been, didn't dare to bring up the remains of gnawing concern. Hopefully she really _would_ consider it a gift to be relieved of her most official and definitely more esteemed position.

... Gods, why would she, when it was phrased like that?

Swallowing another bite of bread heavily, Ganymede picked up the second kantharos and tried to let the smooth taste of the nectar wash away his worry.

"Tell me, Ganymede, how well do you know our history?"

Looking up again, Ganymede frowned thoughtfully, but Zeus' expression didn't reveal much of what he was looking for in the way of an answer, or why he might be asking. Hesitantly, Ganymede raised a single shoulder in a tiny shrug. "I was taught by learned scholars, and I don't believe there's any difference in the details or extent of what they've told me from what any Achaean might be told?"

Zeus nodded, but there was still nothing he could tell what the reason for this question might be, so Ganymede - though he was very interested in finishing his loaf and maybe attack the cookies next - sat attentively still, waiting.

"Good. But for as many details that have been preserved, there's still more to know, and a number of differences to what mortals have learned. I think it'll help you to understand your place here better if you know the full history."

This was _not_ what he'd expected, but it was nothing Ganymede disliked in the least. It was reassuring, actually. For as much as he'd been thrown into the deep end by being left alone so soon after Zeus brought him here, this promised more structure than Ganymede might have hoped for. Nodding and shifting so he sat facing Zeus more fully, pulling one leg in up on the bench, Ganymede put his kantharos down and continued to nibble on what was left of his loaf while Zeus started talking.

He was a surprisingly good storyteller, so the differences from what Ganymede knew in addition to the personal details and insights that Zeus added, turned what could have been a tedious re-learning of something he already knew into an interesting re-framing, and instead expanding on that knowledge. It was a calming way to spend the afternoon, distraction as well as serious lesson both.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Ganymede to step out of the safe little bubble Zeus dropped him in and take his place on Olympos.

Ganymede had woken up having slept better than he could ever remember. Certainly better than he had thought he would. This even with the insistent awareness, if vague and fleeing every attempt at trying to recall the shape and content of them, of having dreamed. Dreams that lingered in the back of his head and weighted down his limbs with uncertain energy until he finally looked up in the middle of breakfast.

"What about my family?" Ganymede froze right after the words had popped out of his mouths, as much for the realization of what the dreams had been about as for the fact that he'd just _interrupted Zeus_. It had even been interesting, and he'd practically asked for the information, something of a connection to yesterday's history lesson by asking why and how the gods got their domains after the Titan war. Zeus had seemed pleased he'd been thinking about it, too, and then, this. He hadn't meant to interrupt! A grape, golden and perfect, burst under his worried squeezing of it as Zeus slowly closed his mouth, looked down.

Ganymede leaned backwards, burying his teeth in his bottom lip, but didn't look away from mirror-flat gray eyes. To do so seemed even worse now that he'd interrupted. Zeus' brows scrunched, and Ganymede couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

"... Sorry, my lord. I just---!" He almost squeaked as a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder, somehow having missed it even while looking straight at Zeus. Zeus, whose expression had smoothed into something unfocused, distant, then snapped back to him, and Ganymede shivered for the weight of it. Not anger. He still couldn't tell what it otherwise was, but the heady, half-awed shudder was more just a reflexive reaction from the weight of the god's regard than true, cringing fear.

"They'll be fine, Ganymede." There was as much warm reassurance in those words as there was weighty finality. That wasn't what he'd meant, not _exactly_ , but considering he'd already interrupted and only been indulged, kind of, Ganymede swallowed and nodded. Maybe... maybe he could ask later. At a better time, and not while literally interrupting Zeus.

Slowly relaxing again, into breakfast as well as the topic as Zeus continued where he'd been forced to leave off, Ganymede wasn't surprised when he was left alone shortly after they'd finished. Which was fine, if exceedingly boring. The small collection of large, airy rooms would probably, if this was where he _was_ going to permanently stay, end up feeling both homey and like home, at some point. At the moment, though, Ganymede barely dared to touch anything it wasn't absolutely necessary for him to touch. He came back to the room with the instruments in, but while there was both a lyre there (he wasn't very good at that one) and an aulos (a lot better), and playing would definitely offer both distraction and something to do, he worried that he might be overheard.

The point of him remaining in these rooms alone was to be unnoticed until he could be properly introduced, so making enough noise to draw potential attention couldn’t exactly be in the spirit of Zeus’ command. And anyway, _how_ would he be introduced? What would it entail? Closing his eyes, draped over one of the couches in the room with the most spectacular view but of course not making full use of that by _closing his eyes_ , Ganymede wondered if it'd be anything like when he'd gotten to Dardanos. Similar? Worse?

His uncle had pulled him forward and then, judging him not tall enough, straight up put him on the table with a smile and a warm hand around his narrow, fragile ankle. Not to embarrass him; he'd made the introduction quick and painless, and maybe there'd been good reason to put him _on the table_ , but gods, Ganymede had thought he'd die. He wasn't even particularly shy, but all those eyes on him and being so exposed had been a lot!

The only way this could be worse would simply be because no matter how Zeus chose to do it, he was introducing him to the rest of the Olympians. Muffling a groan in his hands and rolling over onto his back, Ganymede stared into the shadow behind the shield his hands made. Normally he might at the very least pray before something like this, but now that seemed...

Well. Awkward. At the very least if only because he wasn't supposed to pull attention to himself, and maybe he could just pray to _Zeus himself_ but this was such an insignificant matter, so how could he? Flinging his arms out to the sides, Ganymede stared up at the ceiling. From this angle he could just barely catch the edge of the round bronze decoration in the center. All he could see of the decoration was the swirl of clouds along the edge of it, towering, fluffy things. Dropping his gaze away, Ganymede watched the same sort of clouds glide with ponderous grace through the sky outside.

With a sigh, he rolled off the couch and wandered out of the room, peering down each end of the corridor. Unbidden, his gaze lingered at the door on the one end, frowning. Zeus had told him to stay here until he was ready to introduce him, but... He still hadn't been able to bring himself to ask about where the shit (so to speak), he might be able to go. Not that he'd needed, yet, which was starting to get rather odd in itself, because he'd sure been drinking enough nectar that that should be a very pressing need indeed! But just because it wasn't yet didn't mean it wouldn't be.

Maybe it would be alright if he just had a peek outside. A quick one, just to make sure there really weren't any rooms right outside that would be what he might need later. That was a legitimate reason to go have a look, right? Ganymede wasn't ten any more, sneaking out of Troy with his little sister in tow, but even then he'd known he was doing something he shouldn't. He was just as well aware of it now, and aware of who, exactly, he was disobeying too. It was just, the idea of asking the King of the Gods such questions--- No. He'd rather die, thank you.

So Ganymede tiptoed down the length of the corridor and tried the door. It wasn't even locked, which, for a brief moment, made him feel even guiltier for breaking the very obvious trust Zeus was laying in his obedience to his commands. Not guilty enough not to open the door and stick his head out, but the corridor outside was empty. The left-hand side led deep away with a couple doors and open doorways, the right-hand one only a short distance away and clearly opening up into a wider space.

After having tried the closest of the doors to the left and finding nothing but a room with a loom, Ganymede went right instead. If there was nothing immediately useful in that direction he'd just go straight back to his own rooms. Quick and easy.

It was a good thing he was slow, because peering around the corner revealed an open space, columns around the edges of a skylight above, with voices echoing distantly along with the disappearing back of a slim woman, her long, straight hair nearly entirely unbound and flying behind her as she stepped into a corridor on the opposite end of the open court. Holding his breath and waiting a couple seconds, Ganymede then exhaled as no one appeared. Left his spot behind the wall with some tense caution, though a quick look around revealed that there was nothing here of what he was looking for. There were no rooms ringing the open court, only a fresco on one side of two beautifully rendered pomegranate bushes, intertwined with each other, and a frieze on the other side, depicting what Ganymede was pretty sure was supposed to be Zeus and Hera back to back fighting a Titan each. The two other walls, closest to the corridors leading away from the court, had stairs up to an upper floor.

Which left him with the dilemma of either doing as he'd decided earlier and go back before he really was found, or widen his search a little further. Down the corridors or up the stairs? He knew very well what he _ought_ to do, but if he'd gotten this far, then maybe he could chance just a little further... Distant murmur became laughter so close Ganymede jumped, tripping back - against one of the pillars, instead of off to the side so he could back away behind the corner again.

Which left him still within full view of the four who came around the same corner the slip of a girl who'd walked past earlier had disappeared in, though these, compared to her, were much closer to Zeus in height. And in the width of their shoulders. Or maybe that was the wings? Ganymede pressed himself against the column, hoping they'd just walk past without looking in his direction. They were distracted and laughing among each other, after all, so maybe he would be lucky.

"---ould've seen his... what's this now?" Of course it was one of the two larger of the four who caught sight of him from the corner of her eye, looking over and pinning Ganymede in place with her bright, blue gaze and arched eyebrow. With a rustle of wings, he had _both_ of the two tallest crowding him against the pillar, leaning in and with their arms resting against either side of him, locking him in. They had spears longer than any mortal man was tall slung over their backs.

"I---" Ganymede couldn't even feel embarrassed right then for the way his voice cracked.

"Did the eagle bring a little rabbit in? Never seen anything fluffier in my life!" Booming laughter from the figure on the right; man, Ganymede was sure, while the one on the left definitely was a woman like he'd thought, though there was little difference between them in terms of height and build. Their upper arms alone were thicker than his thighs, and bulging with muscle. Nervous breath got stuck in his throat as a large hand reached out - and was smacked away by one much more graceful, though its size belied by the drastic difference in build more than anything else. The winged woman that slender hand belonged to was still well over a head taller than Ganymede, though she only reached a little above the shoulders of the taller two.

"Look here, you two! What an impression you're making, scaring the wits out of him!" She turned to smile down at him, golden hair gleaming in the light and her blue eyes bright. Her wings were larger than the other two, full-sized and beautiful behind her back. Ganymede glanced from those, to the two taller figures, then _behind them_ to where the fourth lingered like a narrow-eyed shadow, large red wings and red hair making him look like he'd had blood spilt on him, then back to the lady with the larger wings.

"It's okay, my lady," he said, cleared his throat when that barely came out at all, and managed a half-smile, teeth catching his bottom lip. Yelped as the larger woman, her smaller wings flaring out, instantly hauled him close and ruffled his hair.

"See, Nike, you worry too much! Here, let's get a better look at you!"

Flinching as he was heavily put back on his feet in the sunlight streaming down through the skylight, Ganymede couldn't help immediately looking to Nike - _Nike_ , gods, he wasn't ready for this, who were the other three, then? - who sighed.

"I'm very sorry for my siblings, Prince Ganymede. They're... excitable."

Trying to ignore the fact that the huge man had taken one of his hands, if very carefully, and had lifted his arm up and seemed to... well, be deriving some amusement from the difference in size between their hands, and whispering something about how pretty it was, how smoothly rounded his fingertips were. Nike frowned and stepped up, snatching his hand free for him, which let Ganymede awkwardly rub his wrist and hand in peace.

"I don't believe I noticed," he said wryly, though kept a tentative glance on all three he could easily see for fear he would insult anyone, but it seemed that only made them smile, and none of it felt threatening. Ganymede didn't precisely relax, but some of the cold fear knotting his shoulders eased. "And I don't believe we've been introduced. You... know who I am?"

How could they, already?

"Oh yes, Father Zeus made sure we knew there'd be someone in the rooms you've been given, so there'd be no... misunderstandings finding someone who shouldn't be there during the night." By the way Nike delicately phrased that, Ganymede was pre-emptively glad Zeus had done so, for it sounded like it might have ended unpleasantly otherwise. Or at the very least scared the shit out of him, waking up with a couple armed figures as tall and well-muscled as these were in his room. None of which did much for helping him relax, but he supposed he could live with that. 

"I am Nike," here she paused to lay a hand to her chest, then gestured to her taller sister, who shared her blue eyes and the red hair with the lurking one, "this is Bia, and the other lout is Kratos. Zelos is the only polite one." 

Glancing over his shoulder to the bloody-seeming man still lurking on the side of the court the four had been walking through, Ganymede wasn't sure 'polite' was the word, but he dipped his head anyway. Got a sharp smirk in response and hoped he wasn't too quick in turning back to face the other three.

"You seem plenty polite to me, Lady Nike," Ganymede murmured, and somehow he didn't jump halfway to the skylight when Kratos slapped his back; Bia caught him before he fell on his face.

"You've never seen Nike on a bad day, little prince! I think the one who's polite is _you_ ," Kratos boomed and then laughed again, golden eyes glittering with his amusement and matching his hair. Ganymede wondered what _else_ he should be, for who would be stupid enough to insult any of the Deathless Ones? Not that he wouldn't otherwise have employed basic manners, but it seemed a lot more imperative to do so here.

Nike huffed, throwing a clearly playful glare at her brother, and Ganymede felt another bit of tension ease away. Still jumped once more as a large hand smacked down on his shoulder, this time belonging to Bia.

"Do you play astragali, Ganymede?"

Baffled, he just wordlessly nodded, because he _did_ , to be sure, but he knew he shouldn't let this go further. Not right now anyway, though he was as fearfully interested in letting her follow through with her implicit invitation as he was concerned what playing a game with these two, or maybe all four, would do. Not that Zelos seemed much for playing something so idle as astragali.

"Yes. But even so, Lady Bia, I---"

Bia made a noise, startlingly high for someone so big, and gently clapped her huge hand against Ganymede's cheek. Or rather, the whole side of his face, considering how tall she was and thus, how large her hands were.

"Listen to that! He's as precious as he's beautiful. I honestly can barely believe he's only a mortal human, as he looks," she said with a laugh, shaking her head and sending the red wisps of hair framing her face swaying with the motion, "now---"

"What is going on here?"

Ganymede flushed and paled in turn, whirling around to come face to... well, chest, with Zeus as he strode across the court to come to stand in front of him, arms crossed over his broad chest. The glance under the arched eyebrow that dropped down to Ganymede was very pointed indeed, gray eyes dark like a brewing thunderstorm and Ganymede flushed again, squirming a little.

"I'm--- very sorry, my lord," Ganymede quickly murmured, ducking his head but, needing some sense of Zeus' reaction, glanced up through the fall of his curls. Which gave him full view of the brief softening of Zeus' mouth, the way it fell open just a shade before he pressed his lips together again. The following snort was nearly like thunder, even in the open court.

"Not sorry enough to avoid this altogether and stay put as told, however," Zeus said, but he sounded less angry than he'd seemed a bare moment before and more exasperated now, if very sternly so. Looking to Zelos, Kratos, Bia and Nike, he gestured towards the direction they'd already been going in. "And you know what you ought to be doing."

They went off without complaint, Nike giving him a last, encouraging smile, which was nice, honestly. She didn't need to do that, and it weirdly made him feel a lot better about having to face Zeus after having disobeyed him. Didn't make the hand on his shoulder as Zeus steered them back to the corridor and then into the room with view any lighter or softer, though it never gripped hard enough to hurt. It was just very heavy.

"What were you doing out?"

Ganymede took a beat to gather his thoughts and courage both, going through several variations of varying honesty, and finally just shook his head, looking down to Zeus' feet.

"It doesn't matter, my lord."

"What?" The earlier edge now returned to Zeus voice, but mostly he seemed completely baffled at Ganymede's chosen way to answer him. Worrying his lip, Ganymede glanced up at Zeus again - not because he remembered the softened look that gesture had earned him just earlier, but more because he didn't feel like he _should_ look straight up at the god just yet, but still wanted to have some idea of his mood.

"The reason - it doesn't matter. It really wasn't so important I should have disobeyed, especially when you didn't ask for obedience to your command for so very long, my lord." Sure, the concern had been entirely legitimate, but when he still hadn't had any need to relieve himself, why had it been so pressing to see if there were somewhere nearby where he could do so? In all honestly, in an emergency there was a pretty large garden outside his rooms, no matter how crude it’d be to resort to that. He had just _wanted_ to have a look outside, and had used the other concern as his shield to justify it.

Zeus was silent for a long moment, and then he reached out, gently taking Ganymede by the chin and tipping his face up. His eyes were light enough they could have been air, barely coloured by the faintest of mist. There was a slight furrowing of his eyebrows, pulling together just faintly, and his thumb stroked along Ganymede's jaw. He didn't say anything, but the stare, as heavy as it was light, soon had Ganymede nearly light-headed with the intensity of it.

"Piḫaššaššiš..?" Even speaking up didn't break the spell; Zeus only leaned in slightly, and Ganymede's stomach clenched with uncertain want and wariness both. Then the King of the Gods straightened up and let go, stepping away to settle on the nearest couch. The swooping drop of pressure of Zeus' gaze easing off as well as the drop of his stomach nearly made him physically dizzy. But why? Did he really want another kiss that much? Why? _Why not_?

" _Remain here_ for another couple hours, Ganymede. Iris will come by and fetch you to the council after that, and we will dispense with your introduction and get you installed properly." Zeus only looked to him again after he'd finished, and Ganymede realized how much he'd missed the heavy stare even if the god now looked very serious indeed. "It's for your own safety that it be done this way, as well as being expedient to let everyone know at once. Mortal humans aren't often brought to Olympos, even less so nowadays, do you understand?"

And Ganymede did. Tantalus, for one. Why he hadn't thought about that earlier, he didn't know. Even that lone event had surely done a lot of damage, so was it then so very strange the gods may not take the unexpected presence of a human among them with indulgent ease?

"I do, Father Zeus." It seemed important he convey he did understand the matter with proper seriousness, so Ganymede chose the title with care as he dipped his head, and heard Zeus exhale, then stand up.

"Good. I won't have you harmed from either mine, yours or anyone else's foolishness. And you're very fragile, just yet," Zeus' said, his voice lingering on the edge of wry as he reached out to wrap a curl around one long, gracefully heavy finger, "even just one of us comfortably careless about their essence and not knowing of your presence while you might catch sight would end very unpleasantly."

... Oh. Ganymede understood then he'd been _extra_ foolish and blushed again even as he shifted on his feet with the unpleasant vertigo following the realization that he could literally have died thanks to his recklessness.

"I see you understand better now. Patience, my prince."

With a gentle tug to the captive curl, Zeus let go and left. Ganymede went over to the couch Zeus had sat on and practically collapsed onto it, despite that it felt like an overreaction. His weak legs didn't seem to agree, so he lay sprawled there for a while, staring at the view without really taking it in. Finally, he rolled himself into a properly upright position and groaned, scrubbing his face.

"Shit."

For having been stupid and reckless, it’d gone surprisingly well. And, too, if Zeus would just have explained--- Though even just thinking that had Ganymede glancing guiltily towards the door. Of course no one, even less Zeus, came storming in to ask what he thought he was doing, wishing for a god - the _king_ of the gods - to bend to his mortal whim and explain themselves.

But still.

He really would have known why it was important, if that had been done.

Gently pushing that train of thought aside, Ganymede spent the next couple hours in increasingly wound up tension. Tried to break it by quickly washing himself off in the washbasin and choose different clothes, for maybe it'd feel easier and be better to face the assembled Olympians if he was actually dressed no different than they were. He was not one of the Deathless Ones, though, so was that not too presumptuous? Staring down at the open chest, Ganymede finally shook his head. These were here to be worn, and he _would_ become immortal. Maybe that wasn't precisely as like the gods, but it would be as close as he could get. And, even when one disregarded the family’s ultimate ancestor, he did also have a nymph for a mother and two different river gods in his lineage, several times over.

He did feel a little better after finding a kilt, maybe a little shorter than he would usually wear but so pleasantly soft in his hands. And with the way it wrapped around his thighs it'd show both those and his calves off to advantage. While he wasn't usually very hung up on things like that, considering all the gods were so breathlessly perfect, it should at least have him fit in a little more, right? Right. Maybe. Maybe he also just wanted for just _one_ god to...

No. That was another thing firmly put aside to consider later. Much, much later, if at all.

It really was an exquisitely comfortable kilt, though. It was soft enough Ganymede might think he wasn't actually wearing anything if he didn't feel the shift and slide of fabric against his skin, the subtle pattern nearly invisible aside from when the light hit just so. The belt he found was heavier and cinched somewhat tighter than any he would usually wear, but it was easy to get used to, and while he had his doubts any of the sandals he unearthed would fit him, since the clothes all seemed to... They did, and really nicely so, too. Fingering the fillet he'd been wearing since he’d been taken from the meadow on Mount Ida, Ganymede finally put it on the shelf above the chest with a last glance. He didn't exactly want to let go of it yet, but leaving his hair unbound seemed better.

A knock at the door had him almost tripping over his feet before he caught himself, took a breath, and _calmly_ walked over.

Still froze with wide-eyed awe at the sight of the goddess on the other side of the door, resplendent and tall enough to almost rival Nike, though by the way her nearly midnight-blue eyes widened, he was at least not alone in being startled. Though, really, Ganymede was still having trouble believing he really was fit to match the gods in terms of beauty, despite that that was the reason he was here. Maybe it’d be easier to see if he was looking at himself in a mirror with one of them beside him, but as it was it felt more like hubris. Even if it wasn’t him who’d claimed any such comparison.

Iris blinked, thick, dark eyelashes fluttering to match the rustle of her golden wings for a silent moment, then she smiled. "Prince Ganymede, of course. Come now. The council is ready for you."

Was _he_ ready for _them_ , though?

No. How could he be? Would anyone ever be ready to go in front of the assembled Olympians, even if he did so at the behest of the King of the Gods himself? He was here because Zeus wanted him here. He had to remember that. That being so, Ganymede let that steel his spine and nodded. He had to be worthy of this honour, and comport himself with _some_ dignity, both not to shame Zeus, but Troy and his family as well.

"Of course, Lady Iris." Still, he hesitated right at the door out of his corridor, and couldn't help the glance up at her, not quite high enough to look her in the face. "Will it be safe..?"

"What?" Iris paused as the door swung open, then she nodded. "Oh! Of course! The path has been cleared, and anyone who might still pass by and would be a danger through careless exposure of their essence has been told to keep good hold of themselves. Kronides was very stern on the matter." Iris didn't even sound the least bit joking, even if that last sentence could surely have been at least a little teasing from many other mouths. Of course that depended on what they thought the reason for his presence here was... Ganymede, not even sure himself if the stated reason was the whole and full reason, did not really want to get tangled up in what everyone _else_ might think, and stepped out past the door, though it felt wrong to do so in front of Iris. She passed him in a quick step or two however, but made sure to let him catch up to walk alongside her.

"... I apologize for questioning, Lady Iris, it's just..." He gestured a little helplessly, and Iris chuckled softly.

"No, it's an understandable worry, but rest assured I will convey you to the council hall safely, Prince Ganymede."

A brief brush of a slender, sweetly floral-smelling hand along his shoulder, and off they went.

Zeus' palace was a vastly sprawling thing, wide and airy as both befitting the status of the beings who lived there and the far more practical matter of their greater height. Everything was shining marble or other stone Ganymede wasn't sure how to name, plastered walls with sprawling, colourful frescoes or friezes. Some of them were painted much as the frescoes were, turning those walls into a startlingly life-like decoration, and some more sparingly so, using mostly gilding. He and Iris weren't alone as they went through corridors and sky-lighted courtyards; there were a fair number beautiful young women of various build and height flitting around. It took Ganymede a moment or two to realize they couldn't be children (especially not so with how some of them were so generously curved!) but rather nymphs. They might seem small in comparison to their surroundings and Iris as she passed them, but they really were no shorter or taller than the variety found among humans.

That he might at least not be the only one as short as he was around here was a bit of a pleasant surprise, though it was one quickly left behind when they finally stepped outside, walked along a portico, through it and out onto a vast courtyard of shining marble, twelve statues of seemingly titanic size ringing the round space. It wasn't hard to tell who they were of, though Ganymede had little chance to admire or study them; Iris led him across the courtyard, their sandals slapping on the stone, aiming not for the megaron that towered on the opposite side, but rather the second building to the left of it.

This was it. Ganymede swallowed and had the fiercest urge to turn around and run away. Ridiculous. Where was he supposed to go if he did that?

"Here we are," Iris said, smiling down at him as she laid a hand on his shoulder while the other gestured to the gilded door, where Nike stood beside it, and she shot him a small, brief smile. Again, much like the one she'd given him before she and her siblings had left, it made him feel a little better. The heavy wood of the door smelled brightly of cedar and sun-warmed metal from the gold that decorated it. "Straighten up, Iliades. You're to be honoured as few have, while we are blessed with your sweet-faced presence."

That was probably true, insofar as everyone he'd met so far had indeed made startled murmurs about how _godlike_ he was, even while not yet being immortal, just having fed on nectar and ambrosia for the last two days. Still, this wasn't his father's court, where he could run straight into any meeting and be sure of his indulgent reception. It wasn't his uncle's court either, where childish charm and carelessness had offered him indulgence as much as his relation to the King of Dardanos had. This was Olympos. And Zeus had brought him here, claiming his beauty made him fit for the company of the gods.

(And then he had kissed him before then barely touching him at all, leaving Ganymede reluctantly confused, but that was hardly helpful thoughts to be having at the moment.)

"Right," he murmured, then grimaced, shooting a sheepish smile up at each towering goddesses, though they only smiled indulgently. Still, he couldn't forget himself. So Ganymede took a breath, let it out, and straightened up. While it didn't afford him much height against either goddess, it did make him feel better. He _was_ still a prince of Troy, and of the get of Dardanos, son of Zeus.

"My lady," he said to Iris, dipping his head, which caused his curls to bounce forward before he lifted his head again. He met her bright eyes with a little smile - one which almost fell off as he caught her expression, a wide-eyed look down at him before she cleared her throat (he could swear he heard her mumble something about being _blessed to not be Eos_ under her breath as she glanced to Nike). By the door, Nike barely touched the wood before it opened under her hand, unaided by either Iris or Nike, and Ganymede hurriedly set all else aside.

He still almost froze in the doorway as every light-crowned head turned towards him, eyes weighted with judgement, surprise and consideration. Somehow, he didn't blush. Somehow, he also didn't stumble after bowing, but he _did_ hesitate, glancing between the gleaming thrones all arrayed in a wide oval around the hearth at the center.

"There you are." Zeus' voice was like quiet thunder, a clouded rumble in the distance that nonetheless called all attention to itself. Ganymede was, honestly, relieved to set his gaze on the Son of Kronos as he stood up, putting his kylix down on the armrest and extending his hand. There was a smile on his face, echoed all the way up into his cloud-silver eyes. Reassuring, as well as... more problematic, now that there were more people to see. Ganymede did his best to ignore his thundering heart, as that was surely just for facing all twelve enthroned Olympians, right? Right. "Ganymede. Come here, my prince."

That would have been nothing more than his title, addressed as he would deserve, if it'd come from a mortal man. To be sure, it was still a title, but the warmth Zeus infused in those two words every time he uttered them, offering protection by the simple claim, settled a lot more embarrassingly deep in Ganymede's gut than just being addressed with his title would ever do normally. He stalwartly ignored that and stepped inside. The door closed behind him and Ganymede tried to pretend like there weren't twelve set of eyes staring at him as he walked the length of the hall, no, wait. Thirteen. There was a girl sitting near the krater behind Zeus. Great. But no matter, he could handle this. Right? Focusing on Zeus helped, for even as overwhelming as Zeus' gaze could be, _was_ , currently Ganymede was a fair bit more worried about the rest.

He didn't let that show in his gait, however, pulling on his knowledge of who he was, and, newer and less familiar, why he was here, to walk with straight-backed (apparent) ease across the floor, then up the two steps and, carefully, to the side of Zeus' throne. Which was apparently not the correct spot, as a large hand, warm and heavy and swallowing his whole shoulder, landed there and drew him in front of Zeus instead. It put him straight in the middle of the collected regard of the rest of the gods in the hall.

"Prince Ganymede of Troy," Zeus said, his voice raised to roll through the vast room, "possessed as he is of uncommon perfection and godlike beauty, has been brought to Olympos to serve as cupbearer in my house."

Has been brought. How passive that sounded, as if it was just a self-evident function of the universe that he should have ended up here, now, as he was. Hysterical laughter might have spilled out if Ganymede wasn't used to having eyes on him, even as weighty as these were. Might have anyway if he wasn't so very, very aware of who these individuals were. Zeus' hand was very warm on his shoulder, but it felt more comforting than restraining.

"Son of Kronos," Queen Hera said from her seat to the right, voice weighted and chin held high. 

Ganymede was suddenly starkly aware of _who she was_ , completely aside from being the Queen of Olympos. The memory of Zeus' lips on his, the perfect weight and fit and overbearing insistence of them as the kiss turned dizzying, beard scraping his skin, was a guilty weight in his gut. A guilty weight Ganymede found he was not regretting. He should, definitely he should, but it'd felt _right_ , and he had no - could have no - designs on her position. 

Did he even want more than he'd been given? 

Maybe Zeus wasn't even going to bring it beyond that kiss, for he couldn't ever remember having heard the King of the Gods going after young men before. Maybe that kiss had been a brief, curious indulgence, and if so, Ganymede might, he could admit to himself, be disappointed, but he'd count himself lucky for all that. Maybe it would be better this way, and he could just focus on fulfilling the duty Zeus was going to lay on him as his cupbearer. Still, as Ganymede watched Zeus' wife out of the corner of his eye and from behind slightly lowered lashes, he couldn't help but remember that Queen Hera did not take kindly to her husband's consorts. Even if such knowledge might not matter at all in the end when it came to him. 

"We can all see he deserves such a life as could only be given among us." Here Hera paused and glanced over at him, and if there was any suspicion in her regard, it was entirely hidden behind a thoughtful purse of her lips, by the honest appreciation on her face. It wasn't unfamiliar, just... strange, to have it come from such a lofty and beautiful goddess. She was breathlessly stunning and flawless. What was he compared to the Queen of Heaven, the Deathless Ones in general? Apparently, somehow, even mortal beauty, if wrought from immortal origin, _could_ be cause enough. 

"But have you forgotten, o wise and all-powerful Zeus, that you already _have_ a cupbearer?" Hera's voice turned biting, and her sun-lit, honey-coloured eyes narrowed with razor sharpness - now aimed up at Zeus, not Ganymede. "Surely there is another honour that would be fitting to bestow?"

"Our daughter is surely old enough she might wish to focus on her future tasks and status, as well as attending to her radiant mother and queen." Where before there'd been something indulgently relaxed in Zeus' voice, it tightened now; not quite forbidding, but almost so. "But even so, her experience and presence will undoubtedly still be needed at feasts. Her duties have been lightened, not entirely ripped from her."

Unable to see Zeus' expression as he was standing in front of him, Ganymede was left watching Queen Hera and everyone else - Hera, who pressed her lips together, staring with cold displeasure at Zeus for a long couple moments; the rest of the gods on their thrones were switching between glancing between Hera and Zeus as they stared each other down, and him. Appreciative, considering glances that, in any other situation, might have had him blushing. Ganymede was unsure whether it was nice to be acknowledged as having some sort of part in this, or if he'd rather they pretend he wasn't there. If this really was happening with no recourse, he knew he'd have to familiarize himself with it, so perhaps it was better to be stared at, no matter how uncomfortable.

"We will see," Hera finally snapped, her voice ringing with finality and challenge both. Despite that, it was as if the air returned to the hall again, making it easier to breathe. This despite that it was partially open to the outside and there was nothing that could've hindered the flow of air. As Queen Hera settled back, several of the gods shifted in their golden seats with some sense of returned ease.

The hand on Ganymede's shoulder tightened minutely, and Ganymede tipped his head in silent question without turning around or looking up at Zeus, wondering what could even be next. For it was definitely _something_ , from the way the tension in the grip on his shoulder changed.

"Turn around, Ganymede."

"My lord..?" 

Doing as told, Ganymede frowned as he finally looked up at Zeus, who, despite the gravitas colouring his voice, had a small smile on his face. It barely caught the corners of his lips, but was still obvious and seemed all the more intimate for that. Was that just how Zeus was? Or was there something else in it? He couldn’t know the difference, if there were any, not this early. Zeus, meanwhile, let go of his shoulder and lifted his hand to the top of his head instead, sinking in among curls nearly golden in the light that fell in from the open side of the hall, just barely reaching the raised area where the thrones were set.

"Take a breath, Son of Tros." Ganymede had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he heard what sounded like everyone _else_ taking a sharp breath behind him as if obeying Zeus' command and tension instantly knotted his spine. Instead of taking said breath, he opened his mouth to speak, unbidden as he'd been. Zeus continued before anyone, mortal of divine, could say anything. "And let it out slowly. You may hold onto me."

Zeus had dropped his voice for the last couple words, turning them soft and rumbling and as intimate as the barely-there smile was. 

Ganymede didn't exactly obey the instructions, even if he probably should. 

His breath caught for the words, the tone they were said in, and then it stuttered out of him like he'd been punched as fire tore through his veins. He wasn't even aware of lifting his hands to clutch at Zeus' forearms, his nails digging into flawless skin. It _hurt_. It was like sitting too close to a roaring hearth, like liquid lightning would be, maybe, and it started at the top of his head, from Zeus' palm, wrapped around his head and filled it up, spilled down along his spine, through his limbs. 

It hollowed him out and filled him up, sparing nothing. 

Ganymede would later take some pride in that he didn't make any noise at all, but honestly, that was just because he had no breath to spare for it. He remained upright more thanks to the hand on his head and the unyielding solidity of the body he was clutching than his own grace and balance. It felt like it took forever, that searing burn through his body, but he could hear his heartbeat like a drum during a feast, loud and all-encompassing, and it took no more than two counts of it before the fire was gone.

The pain was gone too, so quickly he sagged a little for relief, dizzy and breathless and feeling... feeling weirdly _good_ , actually. Great, even, despite the agony of the moment before. Realizing he was still clutching onto Zeus' arms like they were nothing more than marble supports, Ganymede flushed, a sheepish smile creeping up on pure reflex on his face as he glanced up to meet dancing gray eyes. He couldn't remember ever feeling this good in his whole life.

Strange.

It was like there'd been some sort of weight to the way his heart had beaten before, one which was now gone...

Oh.

Ganymede looked back up, wide-eyed, and Zeus' smile, no longer hidden, widened further, blooming out on his face with pleased warmth. Zeus dropped his hand from the crown of Ganymede's head down to cradle his face, just for a moment, the touch mostly hidden between their bodies.

"As my new cupbearer could hardly enjoy his honour for long otherwise and we would be deprived too soon of his presence, he has been given immortality and eternal youth." Zeus raised his voice to booming thunder again, filling the hall, and there was a finality in those words that rocked through Ganymede in a way the eagle snatching him up hadn't, in a way the kiss two days ago hadn't. 

This was _for real_. It was like there was no solid ground under his feet. 

"Hebe, take Ganymede to sit down, and get him some nectar and ambrosia as well. He'll need it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganymede braves an apology to Zeus' former cupbearer, and has a somewhat surprising visitor.

Following Hebe felt like walking in a dream. Not the good sort; the ones where you seemed to be getting nowhere and everything seemed to float, uncertain and unstable. 

Ganymede couldn't pay attention to their surroundings as they left the council hall, past Nike and across the courtyard. What stood out the most with startling clarity was that Hebe was only a head taller than he was, which would make her as tall as an uncommonly tall man, making her positively tiny among her kin. How old was she? Was he going to have the equivalent of a crying Cleomestra on his hands as soon as they were alone, if she were not shy to express her emotions in front of a stranger? 

If she did cry, Ganymede wasn't sure he could handle that. It was bad enough when his little sister did so, as rarely as it happened!

Curling his trembling hands into fists at his sides, Ganymede didn't realize they'd come to their destination until there was a pair of graceful hands pushing him to sit in a chair. He dropped like he'd been pushed, not gently guided, realized he was practically hyperventilating, and, mortified, concentrated on breathing. When Hebe came back with a kantharos full of nectar and a plate of ambrosia turned into soft little cakes with nuts scattered on them and handed him the cup while she put the plate on the table between them, Ganymede felt a little less light-headed. Drinking settled him more, and he realized he was _famished_. Since eating would delay the inevitable for another couple minutes at least, he ate, demolishing the ambrosia until there was half the amount of cakes on the plate than there'd been when Hebe had put it down. He left the rest reluctantly, but it would be rude to eat them all by himself. Lifting the kantharos for another drink, he dared his first proper look up at the young goddess seated across from him on a similar chair to the one he was sitting on.

She ducked her head as he looked up, but he could see the gleam of her brilliant eyes still from under her dark lashes, and she was worrying the fabric of her dress at her lap. It was one of a more unfamiliar in style to Ganymede, but he was pretty sure it was the style that was becoming more and more popular among the mainland Achaeans, slowly replacing the older Cretan fashion for women. The short sleeves revealed gently rounded arms and a multitude of beaded bracelets along with regular metal bangles, with attendant beaded necklaces decorating her slim neck and shoulders, which were pulled in a little. Just barely so, but since he was looking he couldn't miss it, and he felt rather worse for having focused on the food instead of making his apologies.

Even if this wasn't his fault.

Or well, it was, in a way, but he wasn't here because he'd made any decision to be so. He also hadn't asked for the honour of her position, even if Zeus had said she was old enough to start moving on to other things. What did _Hebe_ want? Had he asked her? If not, it really should be her father that should apologize, but that image almost had Ganymede scrunch his nose in incredulity. No matter how much Zeus loved his youngest daughter and how close to her he was, Ganymede couldn't really see the majestic god _apologizing_.

He would have to do it for both of them.

"I..." 

Exhaling, Ganymede straightened up. Decided he would behave as befitting of the prince he was, not the stuttering shepherd he'd been playing at the last couple months. He'd done it when stepping into the council hall, he'd tried to do so in front of Zeus' enforcers even when he'd been constantly unsettled during that meeting. He would do so now as well. 

Most would probably say the lovely young goddess sitting across from him with her sweetly honey-coloured eyes and perfect ringlet curls the colour of heavy stormclouds _surely_ was much less intimidating than Bia and Kratos, and thus easier to confront. Ganymede, as he watched her, his hands tight around the kantharos, decided those people would be wrong. Very, very wrong. She might not be glaring at him like Hera had been glaring at Zeus, but in some ways her side-ways look and slightly hunched posture felt more damning. Further, he hadn't supplanted either of Zeus' enforcers, after all, no matter if Zeus had couched it in less absolute terms than that. It was still what he would be doing to Hebe. 

"I apologise for taking your position, my lady."

Hebe's hands stilled in her lap, then she looked up. Ganymede had a brief impression not of sadness or anger, but rather something that might have been closer to shyness, maybe, before she blinked, wide eyes staring at him for another silent moment. 

Then she burst out laughing so hard she almost tipped off her chair as she slapped her knees, bracelets jangling in soft counterpoint to the riot of her amusement. It was Ganymede's turn to blink, wide-eyed and stiff, but the goddess' amusement wasn't malicious or tearfully hysterical. Slowly, he relaxed enough to take a sip of the nectar while waiting for Hebe to collect herself. It went down like honey-sweetened warm milk, and while he already felt no worse for wear after having his mortality burnt out of him, it still helped settle his stomach some more.

"Don't be sorry, Prince Ganymede," Hebe managed somewhere between giggles, and she was now blushing, trying and failing to shield herself to hide her amusement. She reminded him a little of Cleopatra more than his younger sister, shyer and sweeter as she was. "I should, really, rather be thanking you. And I'll have you call me _Hebe_ , thank you very much, since I'd like to get to know you beyond teaching you your new duties." 

Finally she collected herself, though her words were still dancing with her ill-suppressed mirth. Ganymede looked away to let her surreptitiously dash away the tears her laughter had squeezed from her eyes and threatened to spill over to streak her cheeks. Finally quiet, Hebe took a breath, then let it out in a huff. While one of her hands went back to twisting her dress, the other reached out for one of the ambrosial cookies Ganymede so far had been alone in eating. Her voice was softer and a little more hesitant now that her laughter had been corralled, and she wouldn't quite meet his eyes, but it was clearly not because she was upset with him. 

"I've... been hoping Father would acknowledge I was getting old enough to be _too old_ to consistently do such a service for a while now. I've dropped a couple hints recently, but it's always hard to know if he's picking up on things like that. Or is willing to acknowledge them."

Looking back, Ganymede realized Hebe must be older than she seemed to be; with her lack of height and trim, less curvaceous figure he'd honestly taken her to be years younger than he was, despite that he knew she must at least have been around for years more than he had lived. He'd completely overlooked the gentle swell of womanly curves she _did_ possess, though the straight fall of the dress hid that rather well, and the belt was too low to reveal much. Definitely old enough to not necessarily serve at her father's table as she had been, even if she wasn't yet married.

"I see," he said slowly, and, weighing his options, dared to add, with a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth; "then I still have to apologise, I thought you were younger than you clearly are, small as a young fawn next to her august antlered father stag."

Hebe's eyes flew open, and she hesitated there until she was pink in the face, making Ganymede wonder if he'd gone too far already, having fallen back on a method that always brought Cleopatra out from herself. Then she huffed and threw a finger up in the air and Ganymede stiffened, but immediately relaxed as Hebe snorted loud enough to echo. In the end she only let out a few stray giggles, mouth quickly covered by a hand.

"Height has no bearing on age or majesty, as I should think you well know, Prince Ganymede!"

"I'm not _that_ short! Not among mortals, anyway!" Laughing, and feeling like a weight of some sort had fallen off him, Ganymede took another swallow of nectar. "And if I'm to call you Hebe, you can just call me Ganymede."

Despite the bright laughter he'd gotten from her twice, now, Hebe ducked her head, quiet for a moment or two, before she looked back up and nodded. "That sounds entirely fair to me, and please eat up. I won't have my father accusing me of not feeding you properly."

Ganymede opened his mouth, then shut it with a lopsided grin when Hebe actually winked at him, though she looked away briefly, cheeks pink and cleared her throat right after, as if she couldn't quite believe she'd done that. Ganymede heeded her though, and he was surprisingly hungry despite the amount of cookies he’d already eaten. Apparently becoming immortal made you ravenous? Hebe did snatch another two cookies from the plate, but otherwise left him to it. When there was only his half-full kantharos left, she nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"I'll make sure you get some time to learn what you need," she said, voice softer now, but the eyeroll that followed was sharp, "otherwise Father will undoubtedly put you at his side by _tomorrow_ or something ridiculous like that, just because he won't think and simply want things to settle into the order he has now decided they should be in."

He wasn't going to say anything one way or another about it, but Ganymede had wondered - feared - something like that might happen and hid a grimace in his cup. Relieved Hebe would at least _try_ to forestall it, awkwardly displeased he'd been entirely correct. What a mess he'd surely make of things, if he was put on the spot so soon! He learned quick, to be sure, but no one really could expect him to learn all what would come with this just over the next day, surely?

"Thanks," he said, grinning wryly and looking down into his almost-empty kantharos, tipping it this way and that in his hands to watch the shimmer at the bottom as he continued, "regardless of whether you manage it, if it's not an imposition, I'd like to start today."

Spread the information he'd need to take in out a little, and give him as much time as possible.

"My thought as well." Hebe's smile when she wasn't practically shaking with laughter was a smaller, gentler thing, which made her both resemble her mother to a greater degree than she did when she wasn't smiling, as well as emphasize her cheekbones, which were a softer variation of her father's. "So I was thinking we make two doughs into one; I'll show you around, starting with Hestia's kitchen, the storages closest to the council hall and largest feast halls and the shortcuts around those. From there, we get you familiar with the palace in general."

She clapped her hands together and then, though she'd both sounded plenty certain just moments before and it was an entirely sound plan, she hesitated. "If, oh, you think that will work?"

Wondering whether she was asking more because she didn't know him well or because she really was uncertain of her decision, Ganymede smiled.

"Yes, please. This palace is definitely bigger than h---" He flinched, bit his lip, and looked away. Hebe, at least, did him the favour of saying nothing, merely ducking her head with an awkward little smile and let him collect himself. "Than at Troy, or the palace in Dardanos. I definitely want to learn where everything is as quickly as possible."

Despite the moment he'd taken, there was still a fierce longing in his chest which Ganymede had to wrestle down, first by trying to drown it by downing the last of the nectar, then forcefully exhaling. It did not quite work, but as Hebe turned her face back up, he was pretty sure this wouldn't have been any easier or necessarily even better if he'd had the chance to say goodbye like when he'd gone off to Dardanos. It would just have been hard in both similar and different ways. He would still not be home right now, and presumably wouldn’t be for… well, for the foreseeable future. He really wished his family could know where he'd gone, though. That, in itself, would be a small comfort.

Mostly. A little.

"It's bigger than any palace in possession of mortal kings, to be sure," Hebe said, her light tone only slightly forced, but Ganymede was grateful for it either way and smiled, which made Hebe relax a little in turn, "but since you _are_ familiar with palaces, I think you'll find it has some commona---"

A knock on the door made both of them jump, Hebe cutting herself off. She glanced to him, then twisted around in the chair, kicking her feet. They didn't, he noticed for the first time, reach the floor. Her toes just barely brushed the shining stone, so she reached further than he did, but only marginally. It made him feel a little better in a ridiculous way, since he was having the same problem. Most of the furniture, not to talk about the general scale of everything, was definitely built for people a lot taller in general than he or even Hebe was.

"Yes?"

Surprisingly, the figure in the doorway wasn't Zeus, but Apollo.

"I'd like to borrow Ganymede for a couple minutes. You can have him back after." Not a request, and for all that Ganymede was definitely disposed to trust this particular god more than maybe most of the others, the smooth, even tone and matching expression revealed nothing of what Apollo might want. What _did_ he even want with him? Hebe, obviously both more relaxed and forward with her half-brother than she was with a practical stranger, arched a sharp eyebrow - once again her similarity to her mother was clear as day with that expression - and stood up with a little huff.

"All right. A couple minutes only, Apollo! We have a lot to do!" 

Ganymede was pretty sure she was exaggerating the importance and amount of "work" they were doing today just because she was annoyed at being interrupted. Apollo, though, didn't seem to take the bait, only inclined his head - which neatly _mostly_ hid his own raised eyebrow.

"Only a couple minutes, of course." Somehow the smoothly arch words didn't sound sarcastic or condescending. Hebe gently hip-checked Apollo on her way out, and he brushed a light hand over her shoulder as she passed, then closed the door behind him. Eyes blue like a summer sky cut to Ganymede, and the weight of divine regard was back so suddenly Ganymede was glad he was still holding the kantharos. It gave something solid to focus on. Strange he hadn't felt it with Hebe, but maybe she was just too young, yet.

"Lord Apaliunas--- Oh. Sorry!" Colouring, Ganymede looked away, feeling awkward. He probably should be using his Achaean name from now on...

"You can use whichever name you feel comfortable with, Prince Ganymede." The smile was small, but it softened Apollo's face with youthful friendliness. "In fact, if it'll help you, I insist."

He waved a hand to brush the matter away as he crossed the floor, sprawling in Hebe's empty chair with careless grace completely at odds with his earlier collected distance. His expression had softened, too, and while it wasn't much easier to tell what he was thinking or wanted, Apollo seemed a lot more approachable, now.

"... Thank you." That... might indeed help. Which made him realize he'd used a Luwian epithet for Zeus a couple times, but Zeus hadn't said anything about it. So that must be okay, too, then. Tiny bits of familiarity left, at least.

Apollo's small smile briefly widened, livening his face and strengthening the faint glow about him, catching in the complicated twists he'd pulled his hair in and then tucked up behind his head.

"Good. Now... are you doing okay, Ganymede?" It was like a switch had been flipped; not that Apollo suddenly looked ages older, for that wasn't it, and he wasn't back to the measured distance he'd worn when he'd opened the door. It was more like passing Ilus in a hallway somewhere and he decided he needed to make sure Ganymede was fine for some reason. All that was missing was one of those annoying hair ruffles Ilus was far too fond of. Ganymede was relieved the question wasn't accompanied by one this time, though less because it was annoying. He might have embarrassed himself if Apollo, somehow, would have been the type for something like that.

"I---" Blinking, he stared up at Apollo, watching him quite seriously now, and even if the weighted look might not have silenced him all on its own for how intense it was, Ganymede's own hesitation muzzled him for a few hesitant moments. Was he? So far? "... Yes?"

That sounded a lot more hesitant than he actually felt. Or maybe it was more honest than he'd like to be with himself, Ganymede wasn't sure.

"I think..." He picked at the engraved decorations that covered the kantharos' sides, centaurs loping through a forest on one side, fighting Amazons on the other, and shrugged. The drops of nectar left at the bottom glimmered like stars. "I was expecting something else, yesterday. This is... better? Easier. I just wish they knew I was alright."

He hoped Apollo wouldn't ask what he might have been expecting, something which Ganymede hadn't even realized he _had_ been expecting until right now. There was a prickle in his cheeks that wanted to become a blush. Presumptuous. Except for that kiss... He glanced up, and almost ducked away from the arch look on Apollo's face, but straightened up again. He was a prince, and further more a prince of Troy and he would act like it. The softening little smile on Apollo’s face that followed felt ridiculously like a reward.

"Your family is fine, Ganymede. But I think you could always ask Father later, if you haven't already. In fact, asking again may make it clearer to him this is something that needs to have something done about it." Apollo shook his head, then his voice turned wry and the graceful wings of his eyebrows arched up high on his smooth forehead. "As for Zeus, he wouldn't ever admit it, but he can sometimes be surprised as well. It'll give you time to settle in."

What Apollo meant with _that_ , Ganymede didn't understand, but his reflexive baffled look that he didn't corral in time was answered with nothing but a brief smirk and Apollo standing up, brushing himself off. Needlessly, surely, for his kilt and the drape of the cloak he wore were both flawless.

"If you need it, my door is open to you. I can show you where my palace is later. For the moment you'll have enough to learn here." Apollo gestured vaguely in what was presumably the direction his palace was in and turned to leave. A thought, years out of place, struck Ganymede and he stood up, putting the kantharos down beside the empty plate.

"Wait, Lord Apaliunas. Did you... back on the boat?"

Apollo looked over his shoulder, and his smile was a carelessly pleased thing as he tapped a finger to his nose. "Only a little push, didn't take much. I take care of my own."

Apollo swept out before Ganymede had a chance to thank him (again, since the sacrifices he'd offered up had happened) and he smiled, feeling better about things, understanding at least a little, now. He might be physically out of Troy, but he was still of the city and carried it with him as much as he carried his royal blood, and apparently Apollo was still offering his protection for that reason.

Realizing he'd been idling by his chair for a bit and that Hebe hadn't come back in, he went over to the door and looked out. She was leaning against the wall opposite, kneading something in her hands with a little frown.

"La--- Hebe?"

She didn't jump, so she'd known he was there, and the golden clump - ambrosia? - was tucked away somewhere as she straightened up, tipping her head.

"Ready to have a look around?"

"Absolutely." And not just because he wanted to be able to move around and not get lost; this _was_ Zeus' palace on Olympos. Why wouldn't he be interested in getting a better look at it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprised to find himself missing something he wasn't even sure he wanted, Ganymede learns to find his way around the palace and gets introduced to some of the practicalities of his duties as Zeus' new cupbearer.
> 
> Never mind that little run-in with Zeus in the middle of all that.

One difference to being hidden away for nearly two days and being known and officially installed became amply clear very quickly; suddenly everything was much closer to how it'd been living at home. At Troy. This _was_ his new home, now. Even so; there were now nymphs fluttering in and out of the rooms he’d been given, making sure things were tidied, showed where he should leave clothes he was finished with so they could be cleaned, and drawing a bath every evening, regardless of if he used it or not. He nearly always did, for the sweet-smelling vapour from the warm water was a _very_ comfortable lure and helped relax him.

Another thing that also changed, and this one Ganymede was pretty sure he didn't like, but maybe he should? Zeus practically disappeared. He didn't notice the first couple days as he and Hebe focused on both exploring the palace and its surroundings to get him familiar with it, but it was undeniable. It was like something was missing, despite that it surely was better this way. It was a reassurance things were different from the experience with King Minos; he was here to be the cupbearer, not...

Not what?

What else could he expect, aside from, maybe, something similar to what he'd been having with Nikomedes? Was that even something he wanted? Admittedly… maybe. Zeus was _very_ attractive. And even if he did, Nikomedes and his wife were entirely human, and Ganymede had been entirely safe as a prince of Troy. Whatever he might not have wanted to happen would have been very likely not to happen, and who was going to punish him? Here... Sighing, Ganymede tried to push those annoying thoughts away and actually focus on what he was currently doing, which seemed like a marginally less childish version of hide and seek. The difference was that he knew exactly where Hebe was every time, for the point wasn't to blindly seek for her, it was to be able to find his way from one spot to the other without getting lost. It was an entirely practical way of learning the palace’s layout, but it still hovered on making Ganymede feel self-conscious.

As well as frustrated, when he could not do what he was supposed to do. Case in point at the moment, for Hebe hadn't been where he'd been sure she'd be, and now he was left trying to figure out what she'd actually meant. He wasn’t going to give up, though. He had at least found the way rather easily to where he'd thought she'd be. He'd just been wrong... Opening another door, Ganymede froze as he'd apparently walked right in on Zeus bent over a desk.

"Sorry!" Whatever the reason Zeus had to be busy elsewhere, no matter if Ganymede was missing those initial conversations where he'd been teaching or explaining something, he would respect that distance, and so he closed the door - or would have, if Zeus hadn't spoken up.

"Wait."

Sticking his head back in past the door, Ganymede cocked his head. Swallowed as he was once more pinned by Zeus' stare, which hadn't lost any of its overwhelming intensity and seemed even more intense now that he'd been out of it for a couple days. Ganymede found he actually kind of _liked_ the near vertigo that came with Zeus' regard now that it was back on him for the first time in a couple days. Was that weird? He decided he didn't really care either way. There was also an accompanying sense of stolen pleasure from the obvious warmth in those pale eyes. Clearly he hadn't been avoided because Zeus suddenly had decided he didn't wish to have anything to do with him.

... Avoided? Why would he think that, now? Zeus was the king of the gods, surely he had better things to do than spend time with a formerly mortal human prince!

"Come here," Zeus said after a long beat of silence, gesturing him inside, and Ganymede went, ignoring the embarrassing fluttering squeeze of his stomach and in his chest. He was being ridiculous, wasn't he?

"Looking for something?" Zeus asked with a little smirk playing on his lips, not at all hidden by his short beard, and Ganymede pulled a face, reminded of why he'd accidentally walked in on Zeus in the first place.

"Hebe, my lord. I thought she would be in the library..." He trailed off, watching Zeus' smirk widen a little, and frowned. "There's another one, isn't there?"

"There is." He sounded so amused, too. "But if she didn't tell you, don't blame yourself for not finding her. You found the library from where you started, didn't you?"

Did Zeus know what they'd been doing? Apparently so, and Ganymede wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed about it or be pleased that he apparently thought it was a pretty good idea, amused by Ganymede’s current predicament or not.

"I did," he said with a nod, then, hesitating only for a brief moment, quickly continued, "don't tell me where the other one is, my lord, but... am I _close_ , at least?"

"You are." 

Zeus chuckled, a warm, rolling sound that filled Ganymede's chest and dissipated some of his annoyance over having been tricked, even if it was a very gentle sort of prank merely meant to help him. The chuckle petered out and Zeus simply stared at him again, his gray eyes turning silver. He was silent for long enough Ganymede wondered if he should ask to be excused, or if he should listen to the returning flutter in his stomach and remain until told to leave. 

"It might be useful for you to learn how to drive the chariot and learn to deal with the horses."

The change in topic was unexpected, and Ganymede blinked. He did however also have to suppress an immediate desire to pounce on the offer. Not just because here was Zeus clearly intending more time spent with him, but because it involved _flying_. After the initial fright of his flight from Ida, Ganymede had actually quite enjoyed it, and even if this wasn't quite the same, or even as close to it as clinging to Zeus in eagle shape had been was, it was _close enough_. He dearly wanted to. And while he wouldn't dream of refusing what hadn't actually been a suggestion or offer and rather more of a roundabout command, Ganymede still chewed his bottom lip in hesitation.

"... Isn't Nike your charioteer, my lord?"

"Yes," Zeus said, arching one thick, sculpted eyebrow, and Ganymede couldn't tell whether he was amused or not, "but that has no bearing on what skills you should learn. While you shouldn't need to use it often, it would be better if you do know for the moments you _might_. Nike's tasks has no bearing on _yours_ , Ganymede."

Definitely a little reproachful, there, but Zeus' voice was warm enough there was no sting in the words, and Ganymede could no longer hold back the bubble of eagerness, or the small, shyly pleased smile that escaped, lighting up his face.

"... I'd like that, Piḫaššaššiš. I was the best compared to Ilus and Assaracus in dealing with the chariot and horses." Was it so very wrong to be a little proud of that? Zeus, though he'd been staring at him with look that'd been as intent as it'd been distracted, his gray eyes going soft with... something, that'd had Ganymede's stomach clench again, focused back on him with that little smirk from earlier.

"I have no doubts you'll be a quick learner, my prince, but you'll find the flying chariot and horses to be a little different from their earthly counterparts." He was amused again, and elsewhen, with someone else, Ganymede would have huffed in affront, partially feigned but also a little real, no matter how correct Zeus probably was as to the differences. Surely it wouldn't be _that_ different? 

Would possibly have, except Zeus was staring again and Ganymede had to drop his eyes away. Only glanced up from an angle, from under the protection of his lashes, and was still pinned by Zeus' narrowing stare. The back of his neck prickled with heat that crept down towards Ganymede’s loins. A large hand came up to brush fingertips along his cheek, light enough to nearly tickle and that was the reason he shivered a little, _really_. Zeus’ gray eyes darkened. Breath catching, Ganymede stuck the tip of his tongue out to nervously wet his lips, and Zeus muttered a curse in Achaean so ancient Ganymede didn't have a clue what the swear had been. Or perhaps it'd even been ancient Cretan. Zeus had been born there, after all.

Zeus shoved his hand forward, in among Ganymede's curls and cupped the side of his face, and Ganymede couldn't pretend he didn't want what he could tell was going to happen because he was definitely tipping his weight forward. 

Into the hand, Zeus' large thumb resting against his vulnerable temple, into Zeus as he leaned forward himself. With Zeus sitting down they were of a height, and the kiss no less overwhelming. Zeus leaned in, pulling Ganymede close as he delved into his mouth, insistent and intent. Unthinkingly, Ganymede soon had his hands on Zeus' huge arms, sliding them up towards his shoulders, clutching on as if for dear life as he was bent backwards. Tingling sparks lit his nerves, the inside of his mind, his mouth, and it wasn't until Ganymede felt something poking him in the thigh that greater awareness returned. With it, the uncomfortable, titillating sensation of his half-hard arousal, the gentle trap of Zeus' enormous thighs on either side of his own legs, one huge arm wrapped around him, trapping him in place.

His breath caught in his chest like the clever tongue stroking fire like little bolts of lightning through him was choking him, and Zeus' grip on him tightened. Abruptly, after a beat of stillness, Zeus drew upright with a sharply indrawn breath, soundless but obvious from how his chest heaved. Ganymede squirmed, shifting on his feet without really stepping away, not daring to, not knowing if he _wanted to_.

"M-my god---" Ganymede coloured, realizing what he'd said, for as true as it literally was, that wasn't what he'd _meant_. Not exactly anyway, and it implied something far more intimate than he felt quite ready for. The throb of his shy arousal stuttered into embarrassed awkwardness, but still it burned through him, not immediately going away. Zeus' eyes were dark like an oncoming thunderstorm, and the large hand resting on his shoulder twitched, gripping tighter for a moment. If Zeus pulled him back now, would he even be doing something Ganymede didn't actually want? It loomed too large, that possibility. Ganymede might have fled if only to give himself a chance to think about it if Zeus hadn't gently pushed him another step back himself, out of the confines of his thighs. To all appearances unbothered by the tent his stretched tunic made over his lap.

"Don't leave my daughter waiting, Ganymede." Still the hand on his shoulder lingered, thumb stroking the curve of the bone - then Zeus snatched his hand back as if burned and flapped it at him, wordlessly further dismissing him.

"Yes, my lord!"

It was flight, plain and simple, and Ganymede wondered if it was strange to feel grateful for being pushed away, even as his lingering arousal was insistently disappointed. Looking down, Ganymede grimaced, blush darkening. He couldn't walk in on Hebe like this. Pacing the corridor a short distance away from the room he'd found Zeus in, Ganymede did his best to ignore his body. It wasn't anything he hadn't felt before. It wasn't anything he hadn't taken in hand before, or had had Nikomedes or Paris take in hand, and it'd been plenty fantastic then and maybe it would be now too, if Zeus had---

That wasn't, exactly, the problem. The daunting issue was rather if there was _more_ the King of the Gods might want of him. What then? Swallowing, Ganymede leaned against the wall and tipped his head back.

What then?

... This wasn't actually helping his embarrassing situation.

Firmly thinking of other things and steadfastly ignoring the heat throbbing through him in time with his heartbeat, Ganymede moved only when he would at least neither embarrass himself nor scare or insult Hebe, and walked only a couple more steps, to another of the few doors in this hallway. Opening it up revealed ordered niches along the walls and in free-standing shelving across the floor, neatly packed with scrolls. Close, indeed. Pulling a face, he took a breath, let it out, and pushed the door wide.

"Hebe?"

" _There_ you are!" Hebe came out from between two of the towering shelves of scroll casings and smiled, not looking nearly as concerned as her tone implied. "I was wondering if I'd have to come get you!"

She hid a giggle when Ganymede huffed and planted his fists on his hips.

"As you see, you don't have to. What now?"

" _Now_ , you show us the way back to the kitchen, we get some supplies, and then we get started on the rest of what you need to learn," Hebe said with a smile, waving her hand in an imperious way that made Ganymede think of her father, which was not what he needed right now, at all. "Since I think, if you can get back there from this part of the palace, we don't have to focus so much on only this, any more."

That, at least, was a prompt distraction from Ganymede's other issues and he smiled. Confident he could, indeed, find his way back to the parts of the palace that were more familiar to him now, and further growing more so by the day. 

Luckily for his sense of pride and dignity, Ganymede _did_ flawlessly lead them back to Hestia's kitchen. They left it with a plate of cookies of some sort, two small eared cups with kykeon, and an empty kylix along with a jug full of nectar. Ganymede eyed it with some sense of trepidation as Hebe put the tray down on the seat of her father's throne, where it balanced a little concernedly on the thickly padded seat. Luckily, Hebe moved the jug to the floor shortly after and left them to eat before she turned around, planting herself with slightly self-conscious grace on Hera's throne. Her feet didn't reach the floor _or_ the footrest, and Ganymede lifted his eyes to her face so he could pay proper attention to what she would be saying and not laugh. He didn't _really_ want to embarrass her, since he wasn't still sure how much Hebe would accept such reactions without being hurt or offended. He did _not_ want to push her away.

"Alright," Hebe said, hands demurely in her lap, lips pursed and her eyebrows, surprisingly thick and very similar to her father's sculpted ones, thoughtfully lowered, "we'll start with the initial order you should serve everyone in. The first one should be obvious." Hebe's serious expression cracked for a smile, bright and teasing, and _now_ Ganymede allowed himself to laugh.

"Your father, then Queen Hera."

"Of course." Hebe chuckled, then collected herself again with a little nod. Pointed to the throne to the left of Zeus', and Ganymede couldn't for the life of him remember who had been to his left when he'd stood here, even if that had been only a couple days ago. "Apollo is next, then Athena beside him. Then you have to go back to _this side_ of the room and pour for Poseidon, Demeter and Hestia in turn. After that, go back to the other side and take everyone else in the order they're sitting; Aphrodite, Artemis, Hermes, Ares and Hephaistos."

Ganymede stared at Hebe, then glanced to the thrones, mentally mapping out the back and forth she'd just described with a slow, incredulous shake of his head. There was a logic here, and while he could understand the reason for taking Apollo first after Zeus and Hera, why... all the rest?

"... Why?" He grimaced, shaking his head quickly. "Sorry, Hebe, I apologize. I don't actually need to know that to do my task."

Hebe, though, sighed, surprisingly loudly and rolled her eyes, eyebrows rising up on her forehead like birds to the sky.

"Oh, I think you know why," she said wryly, but she did lower her voice, casting a cautious look towards the closed door and the colonnaded part of the room open to the sky before she continued, "it's a mix of Father's favouritism and the respect my aunts and uncle are due as his siblings."

She said it so matter of factly, if quietly, Ganymede could admit he'd... well, if not known, then certainly wondered if that was it. It was such a mundane reasoning and reason it nearly seemed ridiculous that it have play here.

"Apollo would of course have been served third either way, but the rest..." Hebe trailed off, gesturing loosely in the air. For the rest, the most straightforward method would have been to go around the circle from Poseidon down and all the way around. "On the plus side, that's _always_ the order for the initial serving, regardless of if it's a council meeting or a feast or celebration of some kind."

She paused, pulling a face that looked half cautious, as if she didn't fully want to commit to the grimace.

"Which, I know, isn't going to be easy at feasts because everybody can be spread out in a lot less orderly fashion and you do need to make sure you serve them in the right order despite that. But at least the only thing that matters after that is who's asking for refilling, or looks like they might want or need it."

Right, _only_ learn this order that might or might not change... Though it didn't sound by Hebe as if it ever really had while she’d been serving. Small boon? Sighing, Ganymede nodded, throwing another look around the council hall and the golden thrones. Each of them were beautifully and heavily detailed with engravings that all suited each individual deity, and Ganymede hoped he'd have a chance to study them closer. At the moment though, there was more important things to commit his focus to. Went through the order twice, once in his head, once aloud, and while he didn't mess it up, it was anyone's guess if he'd remember it properly the first thing tomorrow.

"Right. Anything else?"

Was it terrible to hope that was it, in terms of this part? Since this was only the practical part and didn't at all address the part where he'd be _pouring nectar_. Wine, he could handle, but he knew that wouldn't be all he'd be dealing with. Nectar, something so infinitely more precious... if he spilled that... Ganymede suppressed a shudder. Maybe he wouldn't be punished for it, but _he_ would feel plenty guilty about it.

"One thing." Hebe nodded, gesturing to the empty kylix on the tray. "When you pour that first cup for Father at a council or a feast, you need to take a small sip of whatever it is, wine or nectar, _then_ hand him the cup."

Oh.

"Oh." Ganymede nodded, fighting down the urge to blush and hoping he hadn't sounded too faint. There was no reason to think he would end up putting his lips in the exact same spot Zeus would then do so, and if they did, _so what_? He'd already been kissed by the King of the Gods, why should such an accidental and indirect touch seem potentially important or intimate? It wasn't, _really_! Why did he fucking care so much?

"It's a symbolic gesture only, of course," Hebe said with a roll of her eyes and an easy wave of one gracefully slender hand, as if dismissing the whole matter, "no one's expecting anything to be poisoned or something ridiculous like that, especially not here in the depths of Olympos! And if it was, there'd be a greater chance Father would be at less risk than anyone else, never mind _you_. Sorry, Ganymede." Hebe ducked her head, face alight with a blush, and that, finally, yanked Ganymede out of his flustered thoughts. His laugh might have been half startled, but he was honestly amused.

"It's true, though." It was now his turn to roll his eyes, not feeling the least bit insulted. "I'm not the King of the Gods, or the same as you or your siblings, even with divine ancestry a couple times over, so it'd be strange if I could handle something meant for one of you." Even less for _Zeus_ , but the idea was so ridiculous it seemed more a curiosity than anything else. Harmless. Except for the fact that he would still be taking a sip out of Zeus' kylix regularly. Clearing his throat, Ganymede glanced to the jug and the kylix and went over there, picking up both of them, one in each hand.

The nectar shimmered in the light falling in from the open part of the hall, rosy gold and with a subtle sparkle to it as the liquid shifted with his steps as he walked over to Hebe, handing her the kylix.

"Don't look so worried, Ganymede," Hebe said with a kind smile as she held the kylix out, not, of course, for him to take it back, just to make it easier for him, "nothing's going to happen if you have a misstep or two."

Safely keeping his grimace in the back of his head, Ganymede knew she was right. At the moment, anyway. Even so, completely aside his concerns over spilling nectar, it would just look entirely unprofessional if he spilled so much as a drop of it. Unprofessional and a stain on the honour and grace on him, his house, and, honestly, Zeus as well, since he'd brought him here. As a consequence, Ganymede was awkwardly stiff and overly cautious as he filled the kylix, the whole affair entirely lacking grace and flair, and he was frowning before he even straightened up.

"... Well. That's what we're practising for." Hebe tried for encouraging, and really, he was grateful for that, but he'd done better back when he was twelve in Dardanos, and he _knew it_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus continues to (not) enjoy his little sexual crisis, while Ganymede meets Eros and then has a breakthrough.

Zeus, father of many, king of the gods, lord of Olympos and the sphere attached to it, would never admit a formerly mortal youth had him so off-balance. It was true, though. Despite his acknowledging that bringing Ganymede to Olympos would probably not let him ignore the sudden swerve in attraction, Zeus had, apparently, still hoped closeness would settle it without dipping deeper. 

Foolish.

What closeness _had_ done was lodge the youth with even more maddening firmness in the back of his mind and he could scarce think of anything else. Luckily his distraction wasn't so relentless he could not pay proper attention to Hera, and Zeus would further not admit to some small relief he found her, her presence, her body, just as pleasant and arousing as it always was whenever they weren't at each other's throats. Admittedly, sometimes that added its own spice, and he knew he wasn't alone in thinking so between the two of them. Either way, he clearly hadn’t changed so very drastically he didn’t still find things that normally aroused him arousing; Ganymede was an exception. A very, very distracting exception. One where ignoring it wasn’t helping, since a year of observing the prince had led Zeus nowhere but stewing in his own desire. Giving in and kissing Ganymede, either once or twice and probably any number more, seemed like it wasn’t going to quench the thirst in the least. If only it was that simple and easy.

It wasn't uncertainty as to potential skill or a fear of unfamiliarity that'd had Zeus carefully pushing the boy away when he'd kissed him in his study; if he truly was to dip into that part of the sea, Zeus had no lack of confidence that he would be able to please both Ganymede and himself. It was more a question of surprise as to the fierceness of the desire to deepen the kiss, to take it further. The newness of it kept throwing him off. Maybe he could both have what he wanted and not rock his whole foundation, if he chose a method with some distance... 

Perhaps. Perhaps not, with how things had been going so far. The issue, the nagging, vertigo-inducing problem still lay in the confusion this unexpected swerve had landed him in. Zeus wasn't used to hesitating over anything he might want, thought he could or should have, but...

The world had its order, and he did as well. Change was of course an inevitable part of nature and life, but Zeus would truly have expected that he'd lived long enough by now there would be no such personal surprises any more.

And yet...

The desire to pull Ganymede closer in the study, in against his arousal and tug his kilt up had been near overwhelming, and that alone had driven him to put the boy out of reach.

Sighing, the sound lost to the cold whistle of wind that danced along the highest peak of Olympos, Zeus picked up yet another raw morsel of meat and fed it to the eagle sitting on its perch beside him. In his other hand he shifted the handful of well-worn golden astragali around, smoothing his thumb over the rise and fall of each individual piece. Pulled his gaze away from the coast of the Troad and the city glimmering there, knowing they would be fine. In time. For regardless of his confusion, the one thing Zeus _would not do_ was to give his stolen prince back. He truly was worthy of the position he'd been elevated to, regardless of additional reasons to take him.

Eyes wandering with his thoughts, Zeus found the now-familiar figure of his Trojan prince wandering through the orchard at the front of the palace, the trees and shrubs heavy with ripening apples, olives and pomegranates. From this distance, Ganymede's sun-bleached hair made him look as if crowned with light, and a closer look revealed his face relaxed, though with an edge of darkening distraction. Worry, perhaps. Well aware of what he'd just seen elsewhere, himself, Zeus pressed his lips together and closed his hands - looked down and opened one fist, the golden astragali in his palm gleaming in the light.

Suitable. Besides, he would like to see what Ganymede would do when faced with his bird, blessed but not actually more than the raptor it truly was. Pouring the astragali back into their pouch, he tied it closed and handed it to the bird beside him, which took the pouch with displeased diffidence but perfect care in its beak.

"Go down there and give it to him."

A muffled chirp, high for such a large bird, and then the golden eagle lifted off. Zeus turned to follow its graceful descent with a small frown.

***  
A week. He'd been here a week now, could find his way around the more familiar parts of the palace near-flawlessly, and was starting to cement the initial serving order as firmly as it needed to be in the back of his head. Those seemed like lesser concerns at the moment, daily as they'd become. A week. Did they think he was dead, or kidnapped? Both of which would be wrong---

Well, no, he'd definitely been kidnapped, but his family would be thinking of a scope far more earthly and mean than the grand scale it had actually happened on. How were they supposed to take any comfort in or honour from this if they _didn't know_? He really would have to bring it up again, but... how? Truly demanding anything of Zeus, no matter how indulgent he'd been so far and how much Ganymede apparently _did_ want those kisses, was intimidating, to say the least. Hah. "Intimidating" truly didn't encompass the scope of his concern for bringing something up that Zeus had so easily dismissed. Even if Apollo _had_ said he should bring it up again...

A rustle of noise and a sudden flurry of wind buffeting him pulled Ganymede out of his thoughts and he looked up into the nearest gnarled apple tree, heavy with its small, green apples. There was an eagle there. For a second his heart skipped a beat, but then Ganymede frowned, cocked his head. There was no sense of power from this animal - not in the same way as there'd been about the massive eagle Zeus had been. It’s eyes were gold, not silver, and it was of a regular size. This was just an eagle.

Or well, probably not "just" an eagle, for there were no guesses as to why there would be an eagle on Olympos, and besides, it was holding a small pouch in its sharp beak.

"... Hello?" He felt a little ridiculous, but a muffled chirp answered him, and Ganymede chuckled. "Sorry, I don't got any food for you, but..."

Was that pouch for him? Glancing around, he couldn't see anyone at all nearby, even less Zeus, and no sensation of power that came with the god’s presence either. With a shrug, he offered his arm to the huge bird up in the tree. Which was stupid, he knew. His arm was completely bare, unprotected from the eagle's claws, which, even if they weren't the size of his own hand, were still plenty large enough and could hurt him pretty badly if the eagle wanted to with either claws or beak. The eagle cocked its head and then, with a couple powerful beats of its wings, flew down to land surprisingly carefully on his arm. He could feel the threatening pinch of the claws, but his skin hadn’t been so much as scratched. The bird was both lighter than he'd expected it to be, and heavy enough he wouldn't comfortably be able to hold it up for long, but he would do his best.

Another muffled chirp and then the eagle unceremoniously dropped the pouch it carried, and Ganymede had to hurriedly snatch it out of the air with a startled curse. As soon as it was secure in his hand, he shifted it to hold it with two of his smallest fingers, for it wasn't that heavy, and unthinkingly lifted his hand to give the eagle a scratch among its shining brown neck feathers. They fluffed up under his ministrations and then smoothed out, and he stroked along the gleaming slide of them. An intense, golden eye stared at him from an angle, the eagle chirped again, and then took off, nearly spilling Ganymede to the ground from the shift of weight as it launched off, as unprepared as he was.

"That was pretty good. Did you know it wouldn't hurt you?"

"Shit---!" Startled, Ganymede wheeled around, heart thundering in his chest as he stared at the young man leaned against an olive tree a couple meters away. Wings. They were white tipped with gold and rosy red, and he had strawberry blond, lusciously corkscrew curls hanging down about his ears, into his bright green eyes. His gaze was heavy and hot, nearly as dizzying as Apollo's had been. "N-no, Lord Eros. I didn't."

The boy - for really, he _did_ look like a boy maybe even a couple years younger than Ganymede was, but he clearly couldn't be that, truly - smiled with smug pleasure at his address, then inclined his head with what could have been gracious humility if there wasn't something very self-aware and intentional about it.

"You can call me Eros."

Ganymede wasn't sure whether he was charmed or annoyed.

"Thank you." The one thing he hadn't gotten used to yet was the feeling of cautiously walking the high ledge of a citadel wall, hoping any given politeness would be enough. Not that he wasn't reasonably polite, Ganymede thought, but it was definitely a huge difference to the way he'd been having to use it lately. At least with Hebe, it was starting to feel more like he _could_ relax almost entirely, where it was more about feeling out how comfortable they could be with each other _as_ each other. "... Can I help you with anything?"

Eros hummed, tapping his chin and then shook his head, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that could either be friendly interest or something more calculated. It was impossible to tell.

"Not really. But I've heard some things about you in the last week, so I wanted to have a look myself!" With a flutter of wings, Eros was _right there_ , Ganymede barely stopping himself from rearing back. 

Despite his apparent youth, Eros was half a head taller than Ganymede, landing him between himself and Hebe in height, and thus giving Ganymede full view of his expression without having to step back or tip head head back much. They stared at each other, and then Eros looked down, back up, eyebrows rising and his grin frankly not at all fitting the sweet youthfulness of his face. Ganymede was blushing by the point their eyes met again and Eros leaned in, close enough the tips of their noses met. His breath smelled of sweet fruit and nectar. "The old man has got taste, though, when he finally finds an unfamiliar hole to land in."

"H--- there's not--- been any _holes_!" Sputtering, Ganymede stepped away, feeling like he was burning from head to toe and tried not to think about the more questionable interpretations of Eros' words. Eros, meanwhile, blinked, wide eyed and still for a moment. Then he bent over himself, his wings twitching with his amusement as he clapped a hand over his mouth and practically howled with laughter.

"He hasn't--- Ahaha! Well, I _never_!" Cackling until he could control himself, Eros was still snickering when he finally straightened up, green eyes bright and his smile wide. "I'd give him help, but then he'd _really_ know I've gotten involved!"

Gods, no. He didn't need that! At least Ganymede thought he didn't. He wasn't sure. Which meant there really wasn't any need for an extra bit of push, no matter how heady those kisses were and what they did to him--- Eros was staring at him, the light in his eyes pointed, an eyebrow starting to creep up on his smooth forehead as well, and Ganymede shook his head sharply enough his curls flew around him. Hoped to dislodge any thoughts regarding Zeus and anything relating to him that wasn't strictly perfectly regular things.

"I think it's fine as it is, thank you," he said, closing his eyes for a moment and exhaling. Jumped when a hand slapped down on his shoulder since he'd missed Eros reaching out, and cautiously turned to look at him, head tipped in silent question.

"Come play with me. I'll show you Mom's place at the same time, it's really nice."

Not a request, really. It was probably safer to just agree aside from admittedly being interested in seeing Aphrodite's palace, so Ganymede shrugged. Was reminded of the extra weight in his hand and looked down at the pouch he still held, and pulled it open. "... I've got an astragali set?"

 _Gold_ , too, and worn smooth - not brand new ones. The meaning of that, whatever it might be, made his heart skip a beat.

"Great! A bit of chance livens things up," Eros said brightly and promptly led him off.

Later, having lost the whole set of gaming pieces and feeling the burn of the loss not just because it'd thoroughly insulted his raging competitiveness but also because they had been a gift, and one that must have been a personal possession to boot, Ganymede regretted the whole thing severely. Eros, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he clutched the gold astragali pieces in his hand, arched an eyebrow.

"You're not gonna cry, are you?"

Furiously annoyed more than embarrassed, Ganymede narrowed his eyes and stood up from the rim of the fountain bowl he'd been sitting on.

"No. Do I look like I'm five? I just don't like losing," he said, admittedly rather tightly, and had to ignore Eros' not so muted snicker, "I need to go back. Hebe's waiting for me."

Which was even true, and Eros flapped a dismissive hand, but before Ganymede could storm off entirely from the beautiful rose garden, he raised his voice, "You can always try winning them back later!"

Grimacing, Ganymede threw a hand up in the air in lieu of a real reply. He could well hear the teasing in Eros' voice and didn't quite believe he'd let him either try to win them back, or succeed at doing so. Teasing, but not malicious or even the least bit mean. Eros had probably not intended to make fun of him with any of this, and Ganymede might actually enjoy his company in time. Just not right now.

At least he didn't have to backtrack to find Eros and ask him to show him the way out; the garden they'd been in ran along the outside edge of Aphrodite's palace, many little fountains and streams cutting through the space between the arranged riot of rose bushes, bowers and trellises and entire lattice corridors of them. It was a pretty straightforward walk back towards the gate, though it didn't entirely banish Ganymede's sour mood. The sweet-smelling, gorgeous display was enough to soothe, at least a little. It almost, but not entirely, had him so distracted that he couldn't stop before he walked straight into a very generous chest.

"L-lady Aphrodite." Ganymede stepped back, looked up into eyes as green as her son's, though with a watery tint to them and an amused, but not mocking, smile. The towering swirl of her dark brown hair seemed to be shaped a little like the delicate turn of a shell on the sides and gave her height where she wasn't actually very tall at all; she was even a little shorter than Hebe. Her lack of height had no bearing on her presence; Ganymede felt like he couldn't breathe, his mouth going dry. She finally blinked and the sensation eased up a little. At least she, compared to the goddess (Ganymede was by now entirely sure the woman in the meadow _had_ been a goddess) he'd met before, while she dressed more archaic than the newest fashion for Achaean ladies that was spreading, still covered her breasts.

"Prince Ganymede," Aphrodite tipped her head, slender, pink-tipped fingers coming up to brush his cheek, "I really should congratulate Zeus for finding you, you're a sight for anyone's eyes. It’s a pity he saw you first." She smiled, tapping his chin, then shook her head and stepped back, the moment over so quickly Ganymede’s stomach had barely begun to twist up in nervous anticipation of… whatever. 

"But never mind that, have you seen my son?"

That, at least, he could safely and easily answer by gesturing deeper into the garden.

"Down there, past five fountains, my lady."

"Thank you. Playing?" She arched an inquiring eyebrow, and Ganymede's distracted mood sunk like a stone, though he managed not to pull a face about it straight in front of Aphrodite.

"Astragali," he said shortly and couldn’t smother his sigh. Aphrodite, in turn, snorted.

"Indeed." The tone... Ganymede looked back up at her with a frown, but she just waved a hand. "Thank you. I'll go find him before he disappears again. He's far too good at that."

Aphrodite disappeared into the garden the way Ganymede had come, and he stood there for a moment longer, watching the roses swaying lightly in a gentle breeze. Finally giving in to the urge to pout, he stomped all the way back to Zeus' palace and the comfortable little room near the kitchen he and Hebe had been using the last few days. It allowed him to practice the whole _cupbearer_ task in a less formal setting than the council hall or any of the feasting halls.

Hebe looked up when he smacked the door close and stared, blinking, as he came over and picked up the jug and the kantharos standing on the three-legged little table.

"What happened?"

Finally unable to hold back even if he should perhaps do so, Ganymede scowled, shaking his head.

"I met Eros. He wanted to play. I lost a _whole_ astragali set to him," he snapped, then took a breath and let it out, frustrated at himself now, instead, "... Sorry, Hebe. I shouldn't be snapping at you."

He poured without thinking, letting the familiar motion smooth out his anger like walking through the garden almost had. Only looked up when Hebe didn't take the kantharos as he offered it.

She was staring again, though differently than the surprise from earlier; her fair cheeks were dusted with delicate pink and her lips just barely open.

"... What?"

Hebe startled at his question, cleared her throat and snatched the kantharos with the closest thing to clumsiness he'd seen from her since he first met her. Still blushing a little she ducked her head, looking away.

"You'll, ah. You'll do." She laughed, a wavering nervous thing that was as cute as it honestly was a little concerning, and Ganymede propped the jug on his hip, too baffled to be flustered at her reaction. She glanced to him, bright eyes darkening in a very familiar way, and then she straight up quaffed the kantharos until it was empty. She put it back down and looked more like herself now; the pause seemed to have given her back some of her equilibrium. "Did you know you just poured me nectar, not water or wine, Ganymede? And as for Eros... he was cheating. He's got the bad habit to do that when he wants something."

Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd known that Eros must have cheated, and Ganymede swallowed a curse. Looked down into the jug instead, surprised to actually find nectar and not either water or wine in there, which was what they'd been using the last couple days after that first, terrible attempt. To help ease him into it, Hebe had said, and Ganymede was only glad he hadn't had to suggest it himself.

"... Huh." 

That'd gone well. But he hadn't _known_ it was nectar, so did it count?

"Here." Hebe held out a kylix to him, her easy grace now returned to her, and gave him an encouraging smile. "Forget Eros for now, please repeat that. You were---"

She cut off, bottom lip disappearing under her teeth and blushing a little again. It was so ridiculous and flattering both, Ganymede ended up laughing instead, relaxing. 

He could do this. Gently taking the kylix Hebe held out, he he poured it full with a small frown and a slight purse of his lips. Compared to before, his wrist was steady but not stiff, his muscles relaxed and not knotted up, and he handed it over without so much making the shimmering surface of the nectar tremble. Ganymede looked up with a smile to Hebe, pleased and triumphant. She smiled back, if still a little pink-cheeked, then flicked a glance slightly behind him, eyes widening a little. Enough warning for Ganymede not to jump straight out of his skin when Hestia spoke up.

"One for me as well, if you could, Prince Ganymede." Her voice was warm and encouraging, and when Ganymede turned around to face her, the weight of her divine regard wasn't so heavy he froze, caught, under it. Somehow, even the first time he'd met her, despite that she was definitely old enough she should have felt like Aphrodite, like Zeus or even Eros, the sensation of her was faint warmth, not crushing bonfire heat.

"Of course, Lady Hestia." Perhaps his hand trembled just a _little_ as he stretched the jug out, but he stilled it before he tipped it over to pour, and after that it was easy. Yes, it was nectar, yes, he was pouring for a deity not sweet, slightly shy Hebe who could laugh like she'd bring the walls and ceiling down with her unguarded amusement, but he could do this. It was only filling the cup, and he did so with only a single additional little drop escaping the gently pointed mouth of the jug to drip down into Hestia's kantharos. Her brown eyes as warm as her darker brown hair, Hestia smiled at him, walked around him to put the kantharos down on the table and clapped her hands once.

"A vision of perfection." Hestia smiled, and while it might have had a shadow of teasing to it, there was only sincerity to it. "I think this deserves some cookies. Sit down, Ganymede."

Since there were now three cups in all, Ganymede filled the kantharos Hebe had emptied in her hasty gulping earlier and snatched up the diphros that stood folded against the wall, feeling only _slightly_ presumptuous sitting down next to Hestia herself, if not Hebe. But the older goddess was warm and kind and had been sticking him extra cookies since Hebe had shown him the kitchen the first time. It was a little hard to truly feel awkward and out of place in her company.

"These are new," Hestia said with a little wink as she put down a small plate of delicately swirled cookies, each decorated with a nut in the center, "so you two will have to tell me if it's a successful experiment."

That was something neither he nor Hebe could say no to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus gives out gifts.
> 
> Ganymede gets ~~a giant cock~~ the courage to push for something important.
> 
> Hermes gets to show off.
> 
> Tros... gets nothing of what he wants, but at least part of what he needs, along with gifts fit for the gods.

Sitting with his legs folded up by the ankles in the warm spill of early afternoon sunlight falling in through the window in Zeus' study, Ganymede could, almost, ignore what had happened here a couple days ago. It helped that he had something to distract himself with, if just barely. Zeus’ presence was like the distant charge in the air of a coming thunderstorm, and kept drawing his eye. Frowning at the scroll spread out over his knees and thinking over what Zeus had said, Ganymede slowly looked up. Hesitated for a beat longer, but he wanted to know, and if it was a ridiculous question, he would have to accept that.

"The spheres... can their extent and influence be changed if people who belong to one spread into another, and keep their faith and rituals?"

Zeus looked up, brief surprise on his sharply angled face that softened into something warmly pleased a beat later. Ridiculous question or not, apparently Zeus was still pleased he'd asked for more information, and that, if nothing else, was good encouragement. The light curl of tension in his shoulders eased and Ganymede sat back, straightening a little.

"Yes and no," Zeus said as he leaned back in the chair, turning so he was facing Ganymede more, "have you ever breathed out underwater, seen the bubbles of air?"

Quite stunned at both the turn of explanation as well as the obviousness of what those bubbles would be instead of just, like, disturbed water, Ganymede felt both silly for not having thought about that before and thought he understood where this was going. The idea that there was a way to actually _see air_ was also fascinating. Not about to reveal he hadn't understood that's what those bubbles were before, Ganymede just nodded. Zeus rubbed his beard, light glinting off the rings he wore as he folded his other arm over his chest and rested his elbow on the thick curve of his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, with a light dusting of dark hair decorating it. Ganymede looked back up on Zeus' face, and he didn't seem to have noticed anything. Good.

"It's a good comparison to how spheres work. What happens are 'bubbles' of influence within another sphere if humans move into it and retain their practices and faith, or if those who already live there extend belief and practice to other spheres. Spheres only change in structure and extent if the whole order underpinning one is removed entirely or reduced enough it can't keep its integrity."

Zeus' pale eyes cut down to Ganymede, serious now as he arched an eyebrow. The implication of his words was quite obvious, and Ganymede shivered. "That can happen?"

"Yes." There was something huge and dark behind that statement, and Zeus' voice filled the room. "The war against the Titans was a smaller restructuring, as was Cronus' acting against Ouranos before that. It doesn't necessarily mean _death_ , but it's a change in the established order."

The idea was unsettling. In fact, it was pretty hard to consider the scope of it, so staggering was the size and implied consequences. Ganymede wasn't sure whether he was pleased to have asked his initial question or not, pleased to understand this at all enough to _be unsettled_. Maybe he would rather not have wanted to know. Zeus chuckled and stood up, light sliding off dark olive skin and lovingly highlighting the muscles in his arms and legs.

"Come. I think there's more pleasant matters we can concern ourselves with."

Ganymede smiled and hopped to his feet, more than ready to do something other than _this_ , no matter how interesting the lessons might be.

"The chariot, my lord?" It was a question as much as it was an attempt at a subtle suggestion; since Zeus first brought it up, nothing had happened about it. Ganymede would easily and loudly admit to being very interested in learning the differences between a mortal, earth-bound chariot and the regular horses yoked to it compared to the divine sort. Hopefully it would come with the actual privilege of getting to fly one even if he didn't strictly need to go anywhere.

"Later," Zeus said with a shake of his head and Ganymede tried not to be disappointed, "even eager students need to relax sometimes."

The tone made Ganymede blink, and he glanced up at Zeus quickly, incredulous for what he'd heard. But no, there was a small grin pulling those generous lips just enough to show a tease of perfect teeth, and Zeus' eyes sparkled with amusement. Apparently he hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought. He looked away with heat in his cheeks, but hesitantly spoke up after a couple steps.

"... It really was amazing," Ganymede said, his voice no louder than a shy murmur, "despite the scare you gave me, my lord. If the chariots are as close as I can get to that, I'd really like the chance to know how to drive them."

Surely he imagined the faint noise of a breath being caught above him, and even if he didn't, Ganymede didn't look up anyway, just kept walking alongside Zeus. Not until a hand landed on his shoulder did he chance to look up, which was when Zeus reached out to brush the back of his hand over his cheek, his eyes soft like mist. Somehow Ganymede didn't stumble, even as the warm slide of skin against skin was followed by a confused, flustered blush. How had such a simple statement, which had sounded kind of silly to him, caused that sort of reaction?

"Later, Ganymede. For now, hunting."

"All right," Ganymede laughed, letting the strange little moment pass. He followed Zeus as they got a bow for him on the way out of the palace, and then they walked past it, away from the other palatial residences. Past one of the last sprawling building even, which Hebe had pointed out during one of their walks as Hephaistos' palace, empty at the moment. He'd apparently left quite a while ago, after he'd found Ares and Aphrodite together. It was something Ganymede _did_ know to have happened. It was different hearing it from Hebe, whispered even if they'd been alone on the path, hearing it as something that wasn't just a distant story but from someone who knew it as part of her personal history had made the whole thing more real. And more sad, too, in a way.

They didn't stop there, of course, but continued further than he or Hebe had gone in their exploration; she'd said there was only wilderness there, vast enough it seemed like a forest despite that there was a wall at the distant end of it. It had been Artemis' playground before she outgrew it and demanded wider hunting grounds, away from Olympos.

For his and Zeus’ purposes, the spread of forest and wild meadows would be more than enough for them, though. As they reached the end of the path and continued out into the open field beyond, there was a change in scent. While there was still a faint perfume of the sweet, shimmery scent that lingered all over Olympos, out here, Ganymede noticed as he paused under the bough of a holm oak, it smelled more green. Not fresh, for Olympos' fragrance was that and more, always shifting subtly and never growing stale. It was however both distinct and pervasive, even if Ganymede was surprised to realize he'd already grown used to it. Out here... _wild_. That was a good word for it. It made him want to run.

Looking to Zeus, the god smiled and gestured him on, and Ganymede shrugged, leaving him by the oak.

He didn't go deep into the forest, contenting himself instead by weaving along the edge between forest and the open field, dotted with oak, beech, some small strawberry trees and other shrubs. It smelled a little like home. Ganymede gave in to the urge to run, half forgetting the purpose he was here for, entirely forgetting the King of Olympos was standing out in the field under one of those oaks, probably watching. It didn't matter. Well, maybe it mattered a little, for if there was a way to run knowing someone was watching, Ganymede... might have done so. Just a little. Just feeling it out, and then just felt entirely too ridiculous and laughed, shaking his head and almost tripping himself thanks to his hair getting in his eyes. Scared up a family of cuckoos, but as he lifted his bow he remembered _who_ those birds were sacred to, and even if they were out here in the wilderness and not at the palace, he yanked his arrow down towards the grass, letting the birds disappear above the treetops. Better safe than sorry.

The hare, though, when he scared _that_ up, Ganymede didn't hesitate over, and whether it was for the god watching, luck, or skill, he felled it with a single arrow. Triumphant, he took his time walking back, enjoying the whisper of wind in his hair and over drying skin, briefly cooling him before the heat caught up. Also surprised to find that despite how long and fast he'd been running, he didn't feel the least bit tired. It was such a contrast to how he'd felt running away from the eagle, Ganymede just had to stop for a moment in the middle of the field, head tipped up to watch the clouds scudding past high above and marvel at his new endurance and ability. Shaking himself after a little bit, he walked back to the oak he'd left Zeus under, and he was still there, arching a dark eyebrow when he saw him.

"What's that expression for, Ganymede? It looks like you were successful."

"Nothing!" Laughing, he held the hare up, pleasure deepening at the smile on Zeus' face, warmly indulgent and praising both. "And I was. It only took one arrow!"

As he stopped in front of Zeus, though, Ganymede shrugged, glancing back over the swaying field of grass behind him, towards the dark line of the forest he'd been dipping in and out of. "I guess... It was just, I noticed how easy it was to run. I didn't get tired at all."

"You _are_ immortal now," Zeus said, and something in his voice told he knew there was more, and expected an answer. Given the implicit verbal push, if not quite an order in itself, Ganymede nodded.

"Yes, my lord. It just made me think of the meadow. How _exhausting_ that was. Why didn't you just catch me while I was running?" Looking up finally, and up further so he could see something besides Zeus’ chest and then shoulders, eyebrows arched but tension creeping up from his stomach to his chest, nervous for questioning the king of Olympos, even over such a meaningless thing. It was still questioning how Zeus had acted. The god, though, laughed, the sound rolling out over the field like summer thunder, warm and loud. Ganymede then found his face cupped by both of Zeus' hands, and his skin prickled, sending little sparks down his nerves. The touch alone would’ve given him butterflies; the look on Zeus' face that had replaced the amusement made his stomach twist around itself in a charged flutter.

"I didn't chase you to make you feel ridiculous, my fleet-footed prince," Zeus said, his voice dropping into sweet darkness and spreading the sparks, turning them into a warm wash that filled Ganymede up, "if you would but have stayed still, it'd have been over that much quicker."

He smirked, briefly teasing, which grew into a chuckle when Ganymede, relaxing now that he knew he had nothing to fear from having questioned Zeus, huffed. Not run? As if he could have _not run_. Who wouldn't run from a monstrous eagle?! 

"I didn't want to risk harming you, and no matter what care I might have taken, in flight and with you running I could still have cut you, however accidentally." Large thumbs caressed the high inner curve of Ganymede's cheekbones, light as feathers in comparison to the surprisingly serious look on Zeus' face right then. "And I will not have you hurt, Ganymede."

Not even by Zeus himself, apparently. Ganymede shivered, his chest full and heavy. Swallowed and had no idea what to say. Zeus shifted forward, and Ganymede's heart kicked up a notch - then those mesmerizing gray eyes glanced up and Zeus let go.

"Wait here."

The next second, so quickly Ganymede actually swayed and had to catch his balance for the change in pressure and sudden disappearance of Zeus' presence, an eagle shot past him like an arrow. Whirling around, Ganymede squinted as he tried to follow Zeus' path. This time it was harder; Zeus was no bigger than a regular golden eagle and quickly disappeared into the distance. Swooped down somewhere at the furthest edge of the field, where the forest arched up around to cradle it. When the eagle came back, Zeus was carrying a rooster in his claws.

Ganymede stared, both impressed and baffled, as Zeus turned back and offered him the _live_ rooster, docile as any hand-reared pup. Though who wouldn't stay still when they'd been carried in the claws of an eagle just seconds before? Tying the hare to his kilt's belt, Ganymede hesitantly reached out and took the offered rooster. It didn't move more than cock its head, peering up at him, then down at the ground as he took it in his arms. It was huge, a burnished buff that made it gleam gold in the sunlight and with a delicate white lace patterning its feathers. The spray of dark tail-feathers, high and proud, seemed even darker against the golden tone of the rest of the rooster, a deep sheen like green metal shimmering in the black.

"It's _huge_ ," Ganymede said and didn't even feel foolish for stating the obvious, far too baffled and captivated by this weird present. Reached a hand out and laughed softly when the rooster gently nipped at his fingertips. It still wasn't struggling, and Ganymede was weirdly charmed. "... Thank you."

Smiling up at Zeus, Ganymede tucked the rooster under his arm and decided this one would stay around for a while. Maybe that wasn't what Zeus had intended with the gift, but at the moment he couldn't quite wish it dead so soon. He could keep it in the garden, maybe..? Even his distraction didn't let him miss the way Zeus' eyes darkened, the brief peek of tongue against his lips, and Ganymede swallowed, unmoving. Zeus reached out, hand to the small of his back and gently pushed him forward.

"Let's go back."

Ganymede was fine with that. More than fine, honestly, but with the potent mix of his own hunting success, having been able to ask something that _could_ have been taken badly, Zeus' proclamation that he would not have him hurt and the gentle touches (the almost kiss), Ganymede knew he had something he had to do when they were back, before Zeus might leave for other business. If he didn't ask now, he wouldn't until much, much later, if he ever would, and this _could not wait_ that long.

So as they reached the steps up to the palace's entrance, Ganymede reached out, catching Zeus' tunic in the back with a light tug, for he was still deciding how he wanted to speak up. The earlier indulgence and the warmly relaxed expression on Zeus' face when he paused on the stairs and turned to Ganymede with an arched eyebrow almost had the prince using hesitant intimacy - only almost. He wanted this to be taken seriously, and even if Zeus might be inclined to indulge him if he begged in a way he hadn't ever considered before but that he wasn't, maybe, entirely against using, it didn't seem right. It felt too manipulative.

"Father Zeus," Ganymede said, only pausing minimally as a second eyebrow joined the first and Zeus turned to face him fully, " _please_ let my family know what has become of me. They'll be assuming I'm dead or worse, not knowing the gifts you've bestowed. No one was there to see you, and by the point anyone _could have_ , we were too high up."

Swallowing roughly, feeling his heart skipping as quickly in his chest as a nervous, spirited horse, not yet broken for chariot or man, Ganymede took a step closer, up another step on the stair so he could more easily reach up in pleading supplication, fingers brushing through the short beard. Just barely touching the firm, edged curve of Zeus' chin hidden among the half-curls. It made his fingertips tingle like he'd touched something charged, but Ganymede firmly ignored that.

"If this is to be an honour for Troy as well as me and Olympos, they _have to know_." Dropping his hand, Ganymede stared up into unreadable gray eyes and halfway down dared to cautiously lay a hand over Zeus' chest. The tunic was whisper-soft under his fingers, silk finer than what came from Kos, and his hand looked very small resting against the broad sweep of clothed chest. Under his light touch, Ganymede could feel the slow beat of Zeus' heart. He might not yet be sure how pleased he was to have been 'given' this honour, but it was, nonetheless, an honour and a gift, and Ganymede knew it. And perhaps he had still been a little manipulative, but surely he was allowed just a little of it? This was important. Very, very important, if he wasn't allowed to go tell them himself what had happened.

There was a tense little furrow between Zeus' brows, and Ganymede tried not to pay much attention to that, or the way his stomach dropped when he saw it. Tried not to give into the urge to apologize and retreat. Zeus blinked, then turned his head slightly, looking somewhere above and beyond him by the distracted, distant look on his face. Then he closed his eyes and took Ganymede's hand into his own, practically swallowing it with his palm and fingers as he removed it from his chest.

"I should be cruel to deny reason," Zeus said with a sigh, lifting Ganymede's hand but pausing halfway up, as if he'd intended to kiss his knuckles but changed his mind, "deal with your catch and then come back here."

Snatching a relieved breath, Ganymede nodded and practically flew inside, down the corridors, past a startled Bia and Kratos before he reached the kitchen. Hestia took his hare with a quirked eyebrow, and then, when he declined to hand over the huge rooster, smiled and gave him a small dish of grain instead. Smiling, he hurried over to his rooms, let the rooster into the garden and went back to the front. Zeus was still there, but he must have gone inside, too, for he was holding an exquisite length of life-like vine made of gold, heavy with grape clusters that shimmered rose-gold against the richer colour of the leaves and the vine itself. A large arm dropped around his shoulders when he came up to Zeus, and he was steered away from the palace again, though this time in the direction towards the propylon and the gates of Olympos. They didn't go quite that far, but certainly closer to it than Ganymede had had reason to go in the short time since he'd arrived. A little past the Horai's small palace, they walked around the long, low building that housed Olympos' stables. Behind it, there was a wide field, rocky towards the distant end of it where it terminated in a cliff. The well-groomed flanks and backs of the immortal horses dotting the field like polished jewels gleamed in the sunlight.

By whatever method Zeus used to draw the horses over to them, Ganymede couldn't tell, but shortly the herd was gathered in front of them. Proximity only made it all the more clear what fine stock they were. A few tossed their heads and scraped their hooves, but otherwise they were still, and their eyes gleamed with more intelligence than Ganymede would ever before have expected from any horse.

"Here, then. Choose two of these, Ganymede."

Smothering the urge to check if he really had leave to choose _any_ of them, Ganymede nodded and stepped close to the fence. If his choice wasn't so free, Zeus would have said. Eyeing them, Ganymede hesitated for a while over which to pick. They were all magnificent, of course, shining sleekly in the sunlight, their hooves gleaming bronze or silver and, when he cautiously reached a hand out, their noses were as soft as silk. In the end he chose two mares, near silver in the sunlight like the palest of ocean mist - had he chosen them because they reminded him of Zeus' eyes? He didn't know. He only realized what they did remind him of when he turned back to Zeus after bridling them with the golden bridles Zeus had given him.

"Good choice," Zeus said with a small smile. He looked down at the overflowing vine in his hand and pinched off a small length of it that had tiny, new leaves on it, wordlessly handing it over to Ganymede. Staring at the little piece of vine, his throat closing up right then when he understood that he would have something his family would as well, Ganymede took it with a small, tremulous smile. Zeus sighed and reached out, brushing a couple curls away from his face. 

"Hermes!"

Ganymede startled at the sudden call, nearly shoving his face into Zeus’ hand. Zeus' voice boomed across the field and startled the horses as well, sending all of the ones that weren't bridled out into their pasture again. The two Ganymede held the reins to nickered nervously and shifted on their well-shaped, delicate hooves, but stayed obediently within the reach of the reins without pulling on them. Zeus stepped away from him and turned around just as Hermes appeared - quite literally so, in fact. One moment he was _not there_ , and the next he stood in front of Zeus, hovering a short distance above the ground. Ganymede could vaguely remember having seen the god in the council hall when he'd been introduced and made immortal, but he'd really been rather distracted, so seeing the slim, young-looking god now could just as well have been his first sight of him.

The wings hovering about Hermes’ head were the most distracting feature aside from the messy fall of brown hair that was one part sleek wave and one part stubborn flyaways that pointed every which way, for the wings weren't even attached to the headband Hermes wore. Dark blue eyes cut to Ganymede only briefly, but that alone left an impression of divine weight as well as amusement, as if there was something Hermes found incredibly funny but had no intention to share. The look lingered even if it sobered a little as he faced Zeus, so that was, perhaps, merely what Hermes usually looked like.

"Yes, Father?" Definitely what he usually looked like, for even as Hermes seemed serious enough, the way the sleek wings of his eyebrows rose up to disappear under the headband in inquiry carried an edge of muted humour.

"Take this," Zeus said, handing over the vine and then gestured to Ganymede, and he held out the reins in return for Hermes to take, "and these two, and go to Troy. Tell King Tros his son has been brought to dwell among us as my cupbearer, deathless and unageing, for the sake of his godlike beauty. Make sure there can be no misunderstanding."

At the last few words, Hermes lit up, from his eyes to his smile. Clearly the license to go down there in as full immortal splendor as he safely could was probably the biggest draw of being sent on this errand.

"As you command, Father Zeus."

With a shimmering shift and a light pull on the golden reins, Hermes and the horses were gone.

###### 

Almost two weeks.

Assaracus had been tearing through the surroundings and villages on Mount Ida with furious energy to no success. He _had_ found a couple bandits hidden away as well as taken care of a couple leopards and a small wolf pack that would have been a problem sooner rather than later for the people living around there. Ilus had gone to Dardanos - not because they thought that was where Ganymede was, only in the hope that extra eyes and hands might help. Cleomestra was a holy terror, furious one moment, crying the next. Callirrhoe wasn't much better, but wherever Cleomestra had gotten her temper, it certainly wasn't from her mother. Tros still saw his wife go from upset and appalled to slow, quiet despair, and his heart ached. Not even the rivers knew anything.

Almost two weeks, with no idea of where or who when it came to the disappearance of his youngest son, and Tros was wondering if death might not be the best outcome to hope for by now. If ransom had been on the mind of whoever had taken his son, surely they would know by now. There were many worse circumstances for a kidnapped youth of Ganymede's beauty to end up in, circumstances that had been vague fears up until King Minos had exemplified one such possibility. 

An exception, they'd all hoped, though he hadn't been able to let go of the possibility that it wasn't up until the point where they'd sent Ganymede into the isolated Shepherd Cottage. It'd seemed safer to allow the regular course of the shepherding task up there. As isolated as it was and with guards present if not right in the meadow Ganymede might choose to graze the sheep in, it had seemed safe, for the first time, to let him go unsupervised when not in the palace.

Of course that's when he disappeared.

He should have known. He shouldn't have let his guard down. Pausing by a window and leaning against the windowsill, Tros scrubbed his face and closed his eyes for a moment, parched summer wind drying his skin and heart both. He hadn't been able to sleep very well since they'd been informed of what'd happened. Or, what they assumed had happened, with no trace or clue aside from the discarded shepherd's crook in the grass. At least they'd known who it was three years ago, and while Assaracus had darkly muttered that maybe the king of Crete had tried again and that Tros should let him take a fleet to Crete and investigate, it'd seemed drastic and improbable at first. Now, Tros was beginning to consider it, if only out of a growing sense of despairing desperation. Perhaps Minos really had tried again, and far more subtly this time.

"My king?"

Pressing his hand more firmly over his eyes for a moment, Tros straightened up from his lean against the window, turning to Piyamaradu, who had been standing there silently all the while. He had to clear his throat before he spoke up, but his voice was otherwise steady.

"Yes?"

"I don't mean to hurry you, but you do need to attend to court," his Gal Gestin said with a sympathetic smile, "I would have suggested you let Prince Ilus go in your stead, but since he's still in Dardanos..."

And Assaracus had, after returning late yesterday, already gone back out early this morning, to scour the surroundings closer to Troy. Even if he hadn't, Assaracus wasn't in a frame of mind at the moment that would make him even remotely suitable for the politic hand needed at court, even if it was only routine business that was to be dealt with. Sighing, Tros nodded.

"The day waits for no one," he agreed quietly and they continued their walk to the megaron, no matter if the steps were heavy.

The distraction was both welcome and frustrating. It was a moment where other business _had_ to take precedence over his aching heart and his thoughts corralled into solving the issues presented. At the same time, like ants crawling over the skin of the back of his neck, hands and feet, there was a constant nagging thought that he could be using this time better. If he just thought about it enough, surely who had taken Ganymede might occur to him (unless it was merely an opportunistic crime of passion and then compounded by earning money by selling the boy into slavery), or where he might have been taken (even Mount Ida was vast enough alone, with so many places to hide a single body, never mind the rest of the Troad, the Luwian lands - or even further afield than that). He could have used the time to sit with Callirrhoe, their hands and hearts mingled over this, for he feared no judgement from her when it came to what he had to keep restrained, if not completely hidden, while dealing with the business of state. He could...

So many things he could do, and none of them would get him his son back, aside from a miracle.

A burst of wind came in through the megaron's open doors, stirring the fire in the hearth, the mantles and kilts. It brought with it a surprisingly sweetly bright fragrance instead of the expected dry summer grass which only almost hid the hints of drying seaweed from the harbour. Tros took a breath and exhaled, some slight twist of the tension he'd been carrying softening at the sweet perfume. Was about to let the next man approach when the ring of metal, like silver on stone, echoed through the megaron. The quiet murmur around the hall fell silent, first stunned and then awed; even the shuffling as people parted to allow the young man leading a couple gold-bridled horses to pass was near noiseless.

"King Tros of Troy," the youth said, his voice ringing easily through the megaron, melting into the soft flicker of the fire in the background and a match for his height if not his apparent youth, for he was taller than any man present in the hall, "take courage and lay your fears aside, for you and your house has been honoured above others."

There were a pair of golden wings attached to the headband keeping wild, brown hair out of the way and they fluttered intermittently, proving themselves to be no mere props. Not that there was any way to doubt what, precisely, was standing in front of them with an enigmatic little twist of his lips, the weight of his gaze daring hearts to beat. Or who he was.

"Lord Hermes---" His voice trembling, Tros flew to his feet and then froze there, unable to know whether to kneel, to throw himself at the god's feet, to demand the explanation his mind was already shying away from. It was both better and worse than the best and worse circumstances he had been fearing. Hermes' presence alone implied what had happened, and while the reassurance that Ganymede was at all alive brought soothing relief to a heavy heart, there was no way either he or the rest of the family were going to see Ganymede again. The little twist of Hermes' mouth softened, turning into something that was the beginnings of an actual, kind smile.

"Take heart," he said, voice a little softer this time but still filling the megaron effortlessly, "and know that Prince Ganymede of Troy has been blessed like few other mortals, taken by the Lord of Olympos himself for his godlike beauty to serve as his cupbearer, ever as the gods, deathless and unageing."

Even with an inkling beforehand, the enormity of the situation still took a moment to register, even less to be comprehended. A wash of whispers tore through the hall, and Tros was both filled with happy relief and an immeasurable hammer's strike of sorrow for the loss. It _was_ an honour, one with a gilded weight it was impossible to measure the glory of, and it wouldn't even be a temporary such; with Ganymede counted among the Deathless Ones, Troy would always know the blessing of his position. It did not lessen the _personal_ loss. Tros still found enough strength to incline his head.

"We are honoured and grateful to know what has become of our son," he said, and while the presence of the horses implied Hermes' announcement wasn't the whole extent of it, when Hermes held out a vine of gold, heavy with bunches of shimmering, nearly translucent rose-gold grapes, Tros still took a moment to reach out and take the offered gift. It was strangely warm in his hand, and the leaves, thin enough for the light to fall through them and make the thicker gold veins patterning them practically glow, bobbed with the movement.

"Lord Zeus offers these gifts," Hermes said as he further held out the golden reins, and Tros took them with a sense of distant, stunned unreality, "for while the loss of a son can of course not be soothed with riches, he values Prince Ganymede and the royal house of Troy greatly."

It was too much. It was _nothing_.

It also wasn't anything that could be refused, had Tros even wanted to. Which he neither did nor would do, but the quaver in his heart slid down into his legs, took hold of his knees. With reins and length of golden vine in one hand, Tros dropped heavily in front of Hermes, his free hand recklessly falling to the top of one gold-sandaled foot. Dark blue eyes the colour of kind twilight widened, though Tros couldn't tell whether he would face censure for the bold action or not. He chose to speak up nonetheless, his voice quiet enough only Piyamaradu and Hermes were close enough to hear.

"Lord Hermes--- my son. Is he _happy_?"

A wide-eyed blink as Hermes' lips pursed and something in his expression turned more serious, the twinkle that'd stubbornly clung to his gaze apparent only when it was now gone. Hermes bent like a young willow, towering over Tros’ kneeling body. When he spoke again his voice was no more than a gentle whisper, though the words still filled Tros' whole being.

"Happiness is a fickle thing, mortal, and I think you know that. But Father Zeus already treasures him, and Lady Hebe has taken him under her wing. They're getting along well, and he's settling in."

It was as honest an answer as he could hope for, and while a lie might have been even kinder, Tros was glad not to have been given it. He closed his eyes and nodded, tears burning but not falling.

"... Thank you, Lord Hermes."

A brush of fingertips over the top of Tros' head, and then the god was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganymede gets some important information regarding his position, and gets ready for his actual debut. Apollo offers some moral support.

Whether or not Zeus had intended to tell Ganymede of how handing the gifts over had gone himself, he'd told Hermes to do it, or hadn't thought of it and Hermes had decided to, didn't really matter. Well, aside from the fact that Hermes scared the living crap out of him when he appeared in the doorway to the verandah that evening, that was. Ganymede could forgive that... barely. It was certainly worth it to know his father had gotten the gifts, and, more importantly, knew what had happened to him and could tell everyone else.

That he'd inquired about his happiness sat heavier, however. It was what his father _would do_ , it was just... That night was the first time he had trouble sleeping since he'd first gotten to Olympos, and admittedly that was barely two weeks ago by now so it wasn't a lot of time. He’d just gotten used to sleeping easy, the bed so comfortable and soft it usually lured him to Hypnos realm regardless of his emotional state. That night, though, homesickness kept him up, and far too pointed dreams about his family kept him waking up. It left him something of a mess the next day, heavy eyed and a little brittle. Luckily there were only really Hebe and Hestia to see, and while he didn't end up crying, it was a near thing.

It got better after that, though. It wasn't as if he regretted asking Zeus to make sure his family knew where he was; it'd been imperative. It probably just had also been a bit of a wake-up call. Another reminder that this was for real, and he wasn't (presumably) going anywhere for the foreseeable future, and probably quite a bit far beyond that. Which was what made the business of his family knowing all the more important, and, after, Ganymede felt better about things in general. It was easier to relax, now, for even if he wouldn't magically stop missing Troy and his family, at least they knew he was fine.

Presumably fine, anyway. He felt pretty okay about it and about his soon impending duties. So, presumably fine, but when Hebe led him out of the palace from the back of it and up towards the highest peak almost two weeks after Hermes had gone down to inform his father, his stomach was soon in knots. It took him a couple minutes until he could dare say anything, though more because nerves kept turning his tongue to lead.

"... Hebe? Where are we going?" _Why_ were they going there, was what he truly wanted to ask, but couldn't quite manage. This didn’t feel like their usual explorations around Olympos, though at the same time Ganymede could not imagine what would require they go up to the peak. Hebe looked over her shoulder, a shawl drawn tight around her arms and tucking a couple dancing corkscrew curls behind an ear; the wind was both cooler and wilder already up here.

"I've got something important to tell you, and it's safer to do so up here. Father insisted."

"Right." That did not instill any confidence in him that things were okay. Hebe perhaps picked up on Ganymede's apprehension and smiled at him, reaching out to snatch one of his hands, squeezing it between both of hers.

"Don't worry, Ganymede. It's nothing bad. It's just _very_ important you know this, for... several reasons," Hebe said, pausing and looking around, as if even revealing those reasons before they were where they needed to be was a risk not to be chanced. Worry still knotting his gut, Ganymede felt, if not reassured, then just a little baffled at the way Hebe was acting. What could even be so terrible while also being something he needed to know? Still, since there'd be no answers if they didn't get going, Ganymede nodded and gestured her on.

It didn't take them long to walk the rest of the way up to the peak. Contrary to what Ganymede might have thought, the spot was flat, ringed on each side by half-circles of rock that were shaped just enough they could be natural seats or intentionally shaped into their form. Four columns marked the space off further, rising up into a fine ceiling of misty clouds that swirled above and around the peak. Smooth and massive, it was hard to tell how tall they were. They, like the seats, could just as well have been made as they were by nature as by someone's clever hands; they _were_ , that was all. The only seat that'd definitely been intentionally carved and shaped was the throne Zeus sat on, and even that still rose right out of the rock, carrying a weight that spoke of aeons.

"Good." Despite Zeus' serious expression, he smiled at both his daughter and Ganymede as he stood up and walked over. Leaned down to kiss Hebe on her forehead while he reached out with a hand, and Ganymede _could_ have stepped out of the way. It would have been a simple thing, the way Zeus was focused elsewhere; he might simply have assumed he misjudged in his aim.

Ganymede didn't, shifted slightly into it, too, even if he maybe should have stepped away considering Hebe was _right there_. As awkwardly guilty as he felt, the warm, solid grip low on his hip was reassuring. It also, admittedly, caused tingling heat to wash through him with how the thumb was stroking over the fabric covering his hip, and Ganymede shifted a little on his feet, even more awkward now. Hebe luckily didn't seem to notice anything before Zeus straightened up and let go of his hip in the same motion, as if he had done nothing but give his daughter a greeting. Silently, Zeus stared down at both of them, then walked past them and leaned against one of the pillars, facing the path that led up to the peak. _That_ was surprising, but Ganymede merely followed Hebe as she walked over and sat down on the right-hand stretch of circular seating. Both of them did have to clamber a little, for the rock ledges were higher than was comfortable for either of them - even a little more so than most of the seating found in the palace, strangely enough.

"Alright," Hebe said, tucking a curl behind her ear now that the wind wasn't tugging on their hair as relentlessly. It wasn't that the wind wasn't still blowing, for it was, but inside the protection of the four pillars, the wind, apparently, didn't reach. It couldn't even be heard over here. It was as if there was a bubble of silence, with the wind and clouds draping the peak in solemn privacy. "Father wasn't going to tell you this until it became 'necessary' from you showing signs of being able to do it, but I convinced him you needed to know beforehand, so there wouldn't be any accidents."

Concerned for entirely different reasons now, Ganymede glanced over at Zeus' back across the open space, broad even at a distance, and then back to Hebe. "... Are you sure he's not right?"

Not that Ganymede wasn't now curious, but he would also assume Zeus had a reason for wanting to keep whatever this was about a secret until it _did_ become necessary he know it. Maybe he never would, even! He was immortal now, yes, and had divine ancestry several times over in his family, but he wasn't the same as the gods, even so. Hebe, though, scoffed and shook her head.

"I can see why you might think so, but trust me. Father isn't _always_ right. You don't want to be surprised by this, and if you're trusted enough to have been given the position at all, this is vital." Leaning forward, she took one of Ganymede's hands between both her own, her warm brown eyes serious and sweet lips firmly thin. Right now the shy, laughing goddess he'd first met didn't seem to exist. "As cupbearer, you have some obvious tasks and responsibilities, even if it can seem far more symbolic than it would be in a mortal court. Providing the drink safely might be symbolic, but what's definitely _not_ symbolic is that as Cupbearer you'll most probably become able to deprive anyone, mortal or divine, the ability to take sustenance from nectar and ambrosia."

Staring up at Hebe, Ganymede could swear even his own heart had fallen silent, for he could hear nothing at all in the wake of her quiet proclamation. No wind, no breath, no shift of fabric; the silence in his ears seemed to roar. That... that didn't seem right. Not that she was joking, for she clearly wasn't, but...

"Hebe," Ganymede said, worrying his bottom lip for a moment, "are you sure that's not your domain as Goddess of Youth?"

Questioning Hebe was easier than questioning Zeus, especially after a month of coming to know her, but there was tension, still, in his voice, in his spine. It was entirely insignificant compared to the yawning vertigo that belonged to the sheer immensity of the revelation laid at his feet, however. Hebe blinked, and then _giggled_ , a flush rising to her cheeks as she glanced away - not embarrassment, but pleasure, rather, and shy such.

"Oh, I'm flattered you'd assign my domain that power! But no," Hebe said with another helpless chuckle, twining a corkscrew lock around one finger, "what I _can_ do may be equally terrible in some ways, admittedly. I can give or take away age and youth as I wish, locking someone helpless in old age or as a mere babe."

"... What about before you were born?" Ganymede could admit this part confused him, had before and did still, even with this explanation of her domain. Hebe frowned now, eyes on her knees and lips pursed. Slowly shook her head.

"I think, and this is merely conjecture, but perhaps a sphere needs to reach a particular age and influence for the added security that my domain allows to come into being. There _are_ ways to rectify the situations I am in control of without me, but they're harder, take longer, and are more costly. I can do it with a bare thought." Shrugging, she looked back up, meeting Ganymede's eyes with a tiny little smile, her pleasure not entirely gone even for the serious topic. "But as you see, that has nothing to do with what I, and you, most probably, in time, can do as Cupbearer."

Again Hebe took one of his hands, sliding it down until she was gripping his wrist, fingers pressing against the soft inside of it until he could feel and hear his own pulse. She was no longer smiling, deadly serious again.

"So you see what you will be able to do, and you _cannot_ use this on a whim, or because you're annoyed or you wish it so. It's power, yes, but one we have to know to not use. It can’t kill, but the still coma brought from such deprivation is foul."

Ganymede tried to tell himself it wouldn't matter; he wasn't exactly the same, so why would he come into this power? But if he did... he shuddered a little, awed horror filling him at the devastating possibilities. With another glance to Zeus' distant back, he swallowed. Didn't much wish to say what he probably ought to, but knew he should, and he would.

"... I understand. Do you wish me to swear on the river Styx that I won't?" Ganymede knew what he was saying; as a human it would have been a gesture only, an attempt at showing honesty and seriousness. Sure, he might have had to worry about the Erinyes, and that would have been bad enough. Counted among the immortals now, however, if he perjured himself after having sworn on the river Styx it would carry real and terrible consequences. Hebe's serious expression lingered for another few heartbeats as she studied him, and then she smiled, shaking her head.

"You offering to do it is more than reason enough to know the position hasn't been assigned wrongly." Hebe grinned, then, leaning in and dropping her voice as she continued, "Father knew you would."

Ganymede blinked, and his chest warmed. Even if Zeus hadn't wanted to reveal the potential power that came with his position, it didn't seem to be because he didn't trust him with it. It was Ganymede's turn to flush, just a little, and Hebe drew her hand back from his wrist to tangle their fingers together and squeezed them, then let go.

"Papa!" Hopping down from her seat, Hebe called for Zeus, who turned around to face them again, pushing off the column he'd been leaning against. "We're done here."

It was startling to hear Hebe address her father so sweetly, since so far, when she talked about Zeus to him she always called him _father_. Shaking his head, Ganymede slid off the high ledge as well and followed behind Hebe, though more sedately. Watched with a little smile and a weight in his chest that only ached a _little_ as Zeus snatched Hebe by the waist and twirled her around, drawing a yell from her before he put her down.

"Good," Zeus said, dropping a huge arm around Hebe's slender shoulders and reached back, grabbing Ganymede by one of his and drawing him up alongside him on the other side. That arm, though, didn't long remain on his shoulders. As they walked, the wind once again enveloping them and taking playful command of their hair, the solid, muscular weight of Zeus' arm dropped down, his hand sliding along Ganymede's back until his large palm was pressed against the small of his back. Trying not to shiver, Ganymede still licked his lips, glancing sideways and was glad Hebe couldn't see very well where Zeus had his hand, if she tried to look. Not that there was necessarily anything _questionable_ about where it was, it was just...

Definitely intimate, by the way it rested where it was, Zeus' thumb running light circles against his back, and it felt like it was burning right through the saffron fabric, as if Zeus was touching his bare skin.

"With that dealt with, I believe we should consider you ready, Ganymede."

There was a pleased warmth in Zeus' voice, and Ganymede glanced up, then across him to Hebe, who caught his gaze and pulled a face, mouthing 'I'm sorry'. Oh no.

"Ready, my lord?" Pretending like he wasn't dreading what Zeus was about to say, pretending like Hebe's reaction didn't have him fretting over by what method Zeus would choose now that he considered him _ready_. Ganymede had already been worrying about the first council he might be requested to be present for, if in a way where he still felt he would be able to perform well without bringing shame to either himself, Troy, or Zeus. Hebe's reaction, though, implied something worse. Or maybe he was just assuming! Hopefully he was just assuming.

"At the end of the week we'll have a small celebration, family only. Properly install you in your position," Zeus said with a smile that warmed his expression all the way up to his eyes, practically making them glow. Even if Ganymede could have protested, in the face of that as well as the hand at the small of his back, he found no other response than to duck his head in agreement. His stomach, meanwhile, twisted with as much trepidation as pleasure that Zeus apparently thought he was ready for such a thing. He hoped that was the reason, anyway.

Blessed gods, _was he_ , though?

###### 

Whether Ganymede was ready or not, the end of the week came no matter what he might have wanted or thought about it. It marked a full month since he'd been taken to Olympos, which was both no time at all, and felt very significant. Any potential powers he might have in the future did, after all, not affect the flow of time, and even if they did, he didn't have any such powers right now when he might need them. He sure would have liked that, though. If only to give himself a couple extra hours that afternoon. What he would have done with them aside from probably working himself into a right state anxiously fretting, though, he didn't know, so maybe it was better he didn't. If nothing else, Ganymede didn't actually even get the full last two hours to himself _to fret_ , for Apollo, followed by a couple nymphs, practically barged into his bedroom while Ganymede was trying to decide how late or early he should get clean, since a bath could be both distraction and hopefully offer some relaxation.

"Lord Apaliunas?" Ganymede's voice _almost_ cracked in his surprise, which was embarrassing enough. At least Apollo didn't so much as smile, though the nymphs, as they trooped into the bath, did a very poor job of hiding their amusement. That was not what he needed right now, so he completely ignored the slender, sweet-smelling trio. Apollo, meanwhile, dragged a chair out from the wall closer to the end of the bed and sat down, long legs neatly folded at the ankle. There was a faint, kind smile on his face, and it was almost enough to offer some reassurance.

"I sent Hebe ahead," Apollo said with a tip of his head and leaning forward a little, resting his arms on his knees, "she'll meet us there. How are you doing, Ganymede?"

It was funny - leaned forward like that, very close to the spot where Zeus had sat the first day, it was very obvious how similar as well as different Apollo was to his father. Ganymede wondered if they shared the same chin, but considering Zeus' short beard and that he hadn't seen Leto yet, it was impossible to know.

"I---" Pulling a face, he threw his hands out helplessly. At least a council would only have meant twelve people to tend to, and Ganymede was certain he'd memorized the order they should be served in. This was... bigger than that, even if it was 'only family'. He wasn't even sure how many that would include, for it could be quite many!

"Father can be very inconsiderate," Apollo said, the little smile pulling higher at one corner of his lips, though while it wasn't mean, Ganymede couldn't quite pinpoint what it was instead, "but I don't need prophecies or to know my father's mind to be sure it's not _just_ that, this time. Besides, Hebe would have browbeaten him into putting it off if she really thought you weren't ready yet, Ganymede."

Hebe browbeating Zeus into stepping back was an image amusing enough it got a chuckle out of Ganymede before he ran a hand through his curls, messing them up. It didn't matter though, not yet. After the bath, it would.

"I know. I was just expecting less people the first time, Lord Apaliunas. Who's even going to be present..?"

Maybe he had been a little worried on and off that Zeus was more focused on getting him installed than truly considering whether Ganymede was ready - he didn't _like_ thinking it, but the thought had crept in nonetheless - so it was reassuring to hear Apollo affirm it wasn't really that. Unless he was trying to be nice. Shoving those thoughts away, for they were really not helpful, Ganymede rubbed his hands over his thighs, twisting the fabric of the kilt. Looking back to Apollo, he caught him raising his eyes to look Ganymede in the face, drumming his fingers over his knee.

"All of us you would already have expected at a full council, with the addition of Hades and Persephone. The Mu--- Ganymede?" Apollo's eyebrows arched up on his forehead. Ganymede focused back on Apollo with an attempt at a smile, though he could see he'd failed.

"I'm fine, my lord. It's... I just... The Queen of the Underworld?" He could hear the way his voice thickened right in the middle of her title, wavering a little, but frankly couldn't care. Apollo blinked, then shook his head and beckoned Ganymede over so he could drop both his hands on slim, sturdy shoulders.

"Remember, Persephone isn't the Sun Goddess of the Earth," he said firmly, with a gentle squeeze to the shoulders in his grip, "while she can certainly be ruthless, she's not the same as the Queen of the Underworld you're more familiar with. For one, she has nothing to do with disease." Apollo smirked, then, pointed and lopsided and a great contrast to his coolly restrained expressions so far. It helped.

"No, that would be _you_ and Lady Artemis, wouldn't it, Lord Apaliunas?" He smiled, relaxing a little as Apollo chuckled, shaking him gently.

"And don't you forget it. As I was saying, the Muses will be there, as well as the Graces. Amphitrite is coming with Poseidon and I believe Angelos is coming with Hades."

"... Angelos?" Racking his mind, Ganymede couldn't for the life of him figure out who that should be, and wondered if it was goddess he should know, even if he couldn't really be expected to know all of them with Troy's eclectic choice of gods that they honoured. Apollo shook his head.

"One of Zeus' and Hera's children. She's not often here, and has been under Hades' domain since before he married Persephone." There was a story there, surely, but Apollo didn't linger on it or explain. Instead he let go of Ganymede's shoulders - if with a slow slide of his long, clever fingers, and Ganymede tried not to flush for it - and picked something up, offering the folded fabric to Ganymede. Taking it and shaking the piece of cloth out, it was bigger than it'd seemed, a full kilt that shimmered golden in the light from the afternoon sun coming in through the windows towards the garden. It was soft and thin enough it slid like liquid between his fingers, finer than anything he'd touched so far, even here on Olympos, and finer than this fiber would be able to be spun by mortal hands. Ganymede stared at the kilt, then up at Apollo.

"... Sea silk?" In the back of his head, Ganymede worried over wearing something like this, but only briefly. It was too soft, too fine for him not to want to wear it. Just by the way it felt in his hands, it'd feel exquisite against his thighs.

"You'll wear it well," Apollo said with a dismissive wave of a hand, then looked past him. That was all the warning Ganymede got before the nymphs descended and dragged him away into the bath. He could have fought, of course, even if three sets of hands were definitely more than his one, but it wasn't exactly worth it. He was left to washing private parts by himself, but everywhere else there were small, delicate hands attending with attentive care, and Ganymede was pretty sure he hadn't been this clean in his whole life by the point he was standing back on the warm stones of the bathroom floor, dry and with the slippery-soft sea silk kilt on. It cut up high on the sides of his thighs, dropping lower in the front and back, though it was a fair bit longer in the front, leaving a trailing fringe of swaying fabric that'd brush against his knees and calves with every step. Grunting softly and throwing a sidelong stare to the nymph who'd cinched his belt _that_ tight, she only shrugged unrepentantly.

"Sorry, Prince Ganymede." She didn't sound particularly sorry though, and she didn't ease the belt up. Ganymede didn't either; it wasn't so tight it was uncomfortable, it was just tighter than he'd worn anything in a while; unusual, but not entirely unfamiliar. The sandals - which two of the nymphs insisted on tying on for him while the third was behind him brushing his hair dry - matched the kilt in colour, gold thread in decorative stitching along the pale, butter-soft leather. 

He was a little surprised his hair ended up dry by the time they were finished, even if he'd noticed that it _did_ take a lot less time to dry up here on Olympos than it ever had done at home. Not quite this quickly, though, but when it left him with dry, soft curls teasing his cheeks and shoulders and not having to suffer wet hair clinging to his skin, who was he to complain about it? Even if he did get his hand gently smacked away from touching his hair, but that was so familiar he reflexively smiled at the nymph who'd done it, entirely unrepentant. She giggled and blushed at the same time, looking away only to glance up at him from under her lashes. 

She was pretty, no one could deny that; slender and with a heart-shaped face framed by long, lazy waves of soft brown hair which caught gold as light fell on it just so. There was not even the tiniest bit of an urge to kiss her, though she surely should have stirred _something_. So Ganymede didn't change his smile but also did nothing else. He was saved anyway by a flower crown being dropped on his head unexpectedly. Jumping a little in surprise, he tilted his head back, realized he couldn't see it like that _anyway_ , and turned to look for the mirror he knew was around here...

Another of the nymphs pre-empted him and held it up for him, and he pretended not to see the sidelong, narrow little stare the nymph gave her formerly coy sister. The mirror, if it was supposed to be a revelation, wasn't. He looked like himself, if wearing clothing of a quality not even the richest kings on Earth could have procured, but the familiarity was reassuring. He was still himself, if nothing else, even if that was the reason he was here at all. The flower crown had a base of holm oak leaves, almost entirely hidden among the colourful spray of flowers that made up the rest of the crown, all of them seemingly so newly picked Ganymede could swear he could smell the green of their cut stems, drops of dew still caught on the petals. Maybe they were that newly picked, and he bet they'd remain so at the very least until the end of the night. Lightly touching it, he made sure to include all three nymphs as he smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Prince Ganymede." The chorus sounded as much like three young women, their voices musical in the echoing quality of the bath as it did the rustle of wind through leaves, and then they shooed him out of the bathroom while they put everything to rights. Perhaps the whirlwind assistance had done more good than just giving Ganymede help whether he had needed it or not, for he certainly felt a lot calmer as he stepped out of the bathroom. Not even Apollo's long, lingering glance threw him off, though it _did_ have him smiling shyly, cocking his head silently. Apollo sighed, shook his head, and shot him a small smile that was as encouraging as it was nondescript.

"Aren't you a sight. Well, let's go. You'll want to be at Zeus' side early," Apollo said as he stood up, unnecessarily brushing of the silk of his own kilt, coloured like twilight and contrasting against both his soft skin and the pale, loose waves of his hair, bound by nothing but a crown of laurel leaves and larkspur (the Achaeans called them hyacinths, didn't they?), "and remember to eat _during_ , you'll have opportunity to do so."

Apollo looked down at Ganymede with an arched eyebrow, and while it was nice to know he was both expected and allowed to eat while everyone else was, that did stir up a shadow of his tension again. Not enough to have him hesitating as he walked alongside Apollo, or even enough to let it come out as a grimace instead of the light roll of his eyes, but it was there.

"Honestly not sure if I'll be able to eat right now," he said with a laugh, but whether Apollo saw through it or was just being kind, the hand briefly squeezing his shoulder in encouragement was a pleasant support. Knowing who would be present didn't lessen the impact of what he had to do, but it made the scope of it more easily surveyed, like knowing the layout of the feasting hall in Dardanos and where the royal family and any important guests would be sitting at the head table. In the end, though the people present at this feast were vastly more powerful and august in status and stature, it wasn't really all that dissimilar to how he'd been a cupbearer for his uncle at twelve. It would be fine.

(Hopefully.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ganymede sails through this little family get-together, other people have opinions on Zeus' new cupbearer... and Zeus' probable intents for him, though not everybody picks up on the same things. In the end Ganymede knows he's pretty content with where he is, Zeus is more comfortable with what's going on and Hera...
> 
> Well, there is no way she'd have been pleased, in the end.

"So, how badly do you want to bone him, and how soon are you going to do it?"

Apollo sputtered, choking on his mouthful of wine, and Artemis smiled behind the rim of her kylix while Hermes sniggered. She'd timed her comment perfectly and gotten her brother with a single, well-placed arrow.

" _Artemis_!" Apollo hissed, still flushed from getting his wine wrong. Yet, that didn't stop him from glancing sideways across the hall as if pulled, landing on the smooth line of Ganymede's back and the flex of muscle around his shoulderblades as the new cupbearer poured for Hebe, handing her kantharos over with a little smile. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear, and Hebe smothered a very obvious giggle and murmured a reply. Apollo shook his head and turned back to Artemis, a twist to his lips that spoke of self-sacrificial regret.

"You're right, I do. But I won't," he said, with a tinge of the same emotion in his tone that was in his expression, and Artemis scoffed.

"Don't pull that one on me, and don't do it with _that_ tone of voice, little brother." She flicked the end of one of the tresses that spilled down her shoulders at him, the silver bands that tied it up in sections for the occasion glinting in the light. Apollo arched an infuriating eyebrow at her, and Hermes, she could see in the corner of her vision, was grinning fit of a wolf about to pounce on a lost lamb.

"I _won't_. I am giving him something else entirely, and he needs it, too. Besides, Father wants him."

It took Artemis a moment or two to process those words. Not, of course, because they were impossible words; they certainly weren't. It was just the pronoun involved, the fact that Ganymede was _here_ , on Olympos.

"Father wants--- _no_!" Artemis hissed, incredulity bleeding over into baffled glee.

"Yes," Hermes and Apollo chorused, identical expressions on their faces with their eyebrows raised and studiously not looking anywhere but at Artemis.

"But he's never..." She glanced away, towards Ganymede who was walking back to sit down in the diphros beside Zeus' and Hera's couch, with a plate in hand that Hebe had undoubtedly shoved at him. "Are you serious? I know Father's practically been fluttering about him like a swan with only one cygnet, but... _no_!" She was going to laugh, she really was.

" _Yes_ ," Hermes said and leaned in, lifting his kylix up as he briefly glanced around, lowering his voice before he continued, "and don't tell anyone, but I happen to know he was observing our sweetest prince of Troy for a whole year before he even took him up here."

Pressing her lips together, Artemis snorted. "I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that it'd take the most beautiful mortal born to make Father go for a man, if he would at all... But you said 'wants'. You mean he hasn't yet, even now..?"

She could scarce believe it.

"Doesn't look like it," Apollo said, more thoughtful now, shrugging as if it didn't matter. It did, though; Zeus never dithered for so long, regardless of the potential or actual consequences. As he could hardly be having a crisis of conscience, this was all about the fact of the unfamiliarity of the attraction. Another glance sideways, watching Zeus' new cupbearer carefully bite into a morsel of food, and she could at the very least appreciate the handsome picture Ganymede made, gracefully bent slightly forward over the plate in his other hand. Somehow he made even chewing into something pleasant to watch.

Promptly, Artemis burst out laughing.

###### 

Rolling his eyes at the children's antics as Artemis' laughter rang through the air, Poseidon held up a slice of bread for Amphitrite but couldn't hold back a snort as he took a sip from his kylix.

"It's incredible. He exchanges Hebe on a whim for a pretty face and gets someone who actually does the job with equal skill and grace to any of his former or current cupbearers? He won't even be able to _appreciate_ that boy right."

Poseidon completely missed Amphitrite's swallowed smirk as she chewed her honey-drenched bite of ambrosial bread, a hand pressed to her mouth. Glancing past her reclining and grumbling husband to where the object of said grumbling stood up before Hera had been able to do more than tip her kylix in realization it was near-empty, pick up the jug on the little table beside him and walk around Zeus to reach the queen of Olympos and lightly take the cup from her. The light was very kind on him as it slid along his skin, following the flex of his thighs, the way he lifted his arm to pour into the kylix.

"I think you'll be surprised," Amphitrite said and had to press her lips together again as Poseidon looked to her, scoffing loudly.

"Surprised? His eyes doesn't seem to be connected to his cock! He wouldn't know what to do even if they were."

Sniffing as a replacement for laughing at her ridiculous husband, Amphitrite patted his arm and tore a piece of the bread for herself this time, trying to find a reply that wouldn't work Poseidon up too much, nor reveal things he had no business knowing if he hadn't already noticed them himself.

"You're merely jealous, dear," she said, tearing a second piece and practically shoving it into Poseidon's mouth before he could open that fool maw of his and squawk something silly but possibly ill-advised, "and while I can see why, Nerites wouldn't be interested in sharing his spot now that he's in a fit state _to do so_ again. You don't wish to upset him, now do you?" She smiled beatifically and certainly didn't laugh at the reflexive glance around from Poseidon, even if Nerites was back home and not with them, seeing as this was a family engagement.

"No. It's just... _Amphitrite_. You're _seeing him_ aren't you?" Poseidon practically begged her, tragedy graven in his voice and face both. This time, she did snort into her wine, but nodded.

"Like I said, I can see why you're jealous your brother saw him first and decided to make sure that beauty wasn't lost forever in a mortal's short lifespan and further got a skilled cupbearer out of it as well, but I am perfectly content with the two of you." Another pat to his strong arm, squeezing a little. "Now, stop moaning about it, or I really am going to have to tell Nerites when we get back."

Glowering into his kylix, Poseidon finally subsided with a last, inarticulate grumble into his wine.

###### 

"What _is_ he grumbling about over there? He's loud even when he's trying to be quiet," Hades muttered, handing Persephone her kylix as she sat back down after kissing Demeter's cheek before her mother wandered off to talk to Hestia while Despoina, after a last look to her sister and then her mother, gravitated off towards the Muses.

"Who?" Cocking her head as she sipped her wine, Persephone was rather glad for this excuse to have a meet up in the middle of summer. It was impossible not to miss Hades while she was here, but at the same time she treasured every random feast or other event that might occasion her forcing Hades to go to Olympos during winter, for the exact same, if reverse, reason.

"Poseidon."

Blinking, she glanced over to Amphitrite and Poseidon's couch, close enough their murmurings could be heard but not what they were talking about and huffed, rolling her eyes. "Father's new cupbearer, undoubtedly. He probably thinks Zeus doesn't deserve him. He seems rather sweet, even if he was nervous when he came up to us."

Persephone chuckled at the memory, and her husband snorted.

"Came up to _you_ , precious. He did comport himself surprisingly well, even so," Hades said, then glanced over to Poseidon again, "... And _why_ does he even care? Didn't he and Amphitrite get Nerites back relatively recently? Is a face, no matter how stunning, such an easy distraction?" Hades looked utterly baffled, pulling a grimace. Persephone narrowed her eyes.

"Would it help you if you imagine Prince Ganymede as a young woman, Hades? A pretty face can be _more than enough_ , and for one such as this Trojan prince, it’s even simpler." Her voice was pointed like Charybdis' teeth and Hades cleared his throat, ducking his head like a naughty child caught where he shouldn't be. _Away_ from where he'd looked over at said cupbearer, and he couldn't pretend he didn't see her point or that she wasn't correct, if he applied some imagination to the youth. It wasn't even hard, as exquisite as he was.

"I apologize, Persephone. You're entirely correct."

She sighed then, and leaned in against Hades, kissing his cheek. She loved him, but sometimes he really did like to think he was above both his brothers. Better did not mean faultless. "I should say so. Forgiven. Now, stop getting hung up on Poseidon and tell me how you convinced Angelos to come with you. I'm glad to see her up here for once. She even kissed Hera's cheek in greeting!"

Persephone shook her head, still quietly baffled to have seen Angelos get close enough to her mother to greet her in such a fashion, and apparently willingly, too! Her husband smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Persephone sighed and snuggled closer. She maybe she should actually thank her father for deciding to go big with Ganymede's full introduction.

###### 

Watching Demeter cross the floor and his field of vision to where Hestia sat with Athena, Zeus was pleased to find this proceeding in as pleasant a manner as could be wished for. Not only because anything else would have been the opposite of what he'd want for Ganymede to get used to so soon, but also because it gave him a lot more time to observe.

... Which might be a curse, at the moment. Ganymede was attentive and observant, moved like the sweetest of dreams given solid shape, and seemed to be charming basically everyone he exchanged even a bare word or two with. Good, certainly, and he'd known his prince was ready for this, but it stirred the unfortunate urge in Zeus to constantly call the boy back to his side, which was entirely contrary to what Ganymede needed to be doing. At the moment he was at least safely standing by Hebe, the two of them having a quiet conversation with their heads bent together. The light caught liquid-blue in Hebe's dark hair, shining like dark fire and a cool contrast to the golden sheen of Ganymede's sun-bleached curls, dark still near the bottom and winking with candle-red little highlights. Inviting touch, so it really was a good thing the boy was partway across the room.

Still, as (pleasantly) shocking it'd been to see him as he came in before everyone had arrived, Zeus was sure of one thing now, watching the sea silk kilt lovingly draped around Ganymede's narrow hips, trim, strong thighs, as well as the graceful turn of his limbs; if he was to be attracted to a man even once in his lifetime, wasn't Ganymede undeniably the best option? No one could claim he wouldn't be worthy of divine attention. In fact, Zeus thought with a slight narrowing of his eyes, Poseidon seemed pretty interested to be bestowing said attention _himself_ , but with Amphitrite there and Nerites back into proper shape and waiting back at Poseidon's palace, Ganymede was safe. Or maybe that was 'Poseidon was safe from Zeus', really. He couldn't exactly stop people from looking, even if he did wish it, for if looks alone could caress that soft skin, Ganymede would be debauched already.

He wanted to make the imaginary debauchery into real debauchery. Had for a month. A _year_ , honestly, and he knew it. Kissing Ganymede wasn't enough. Touching him with the smallest of reasons to do so wasn't enough. He wanted---

"I admit you didn't choose wrongly," Hera said beside him, and Zeus dropped his arm to embrace her shoulders, thumb stroking along the smooth skin right under the hem of the short sleeve of her dress. "He's not only charming, but exquisite to watch."

A distraction. A dangerous one as Zeus smirked, shooting Hera a sidelong glance and arched an eyebrow under his wreath of olive leaves.

"Am I hearing a confession of enjoyment, here? Do I have cause to worry?" He knew he didn't. At the very, very least, Ganymede didn’t, as far as Zeus knew, look old enough for Hera's liking, not that he understood what that mattered. Mostly, she would never think of it. Case in point, a softly outraged noise caught in the back of her throat and she slapped his arm - surprisingly gently.

"You are a goat. A terrible, awful, sticky-fingered goat, who clearly judges everyone by his own failings." Hera sniffed, but as she didn't shift to sit up and move away from him, she was clearly at least amused enough by his jab not to take it seriously. She did not think there was anything to worry about, here. And usually there wouldn't have been. There _shouldn't_ have been, for Ganymede, no matter how handsome and godlike in his perfection, was not what Zeus had ever looked at before. And yet. _And yet_... Zeus' gaze slid back across the hall, where Ganymede picked the jug back up with a last little smile to Hebe and walked over to the knot of giggling, brightly-clad girls Despoina and the Muses had made around Angelos, with Ares sitting in the shadow of a nearby column. Yet, who could deny the boy was breathtaking? Who _wouldn't_ feel even the slightest bit of stirring at the sight of him, the shift of muscles under perfect skin, the light in his green eyes?

"We can't all live up to your shining perfection, my dear," Zeus said, and while he was teasing he was also utterly serious. Pulling away from following Ganymede as he moved around the hall to turn to Hera, Zeus leaned in to drag a kiss along her cheek, down to the corner of her mouth. She tipped the weight of her face into his lips even as she snorted.

"I am glad to hear you see the truth for what it is, but it truly isn't so difficult, Zeus." She sighed, then turned her head and kissed him, clearly not interested in truly arguing. Pressed in with firm affection, her tongue clever against his, and maybe he could have been distracted for a little longer, maybe this time his distracted lust really would have come to nothing in the end - except Hera pulled away and slid off the couch, touching his beard with slender, perfect fingers, a faint gleam of gold decorating her nails. "Since Demeter is here, I'll borrow her and Hestia and see if Demeter needs more distraction."

At first, Zeus was confused. Then he nodded and waved Hera off. Right. Iasion had died not that long ago, hadn't he? Zeus knew he was probably lucky he'd been able to restore Iasion to life enough to give him a full mortal lifetime, if devoid of the gifts being a son of a god could otherwise bestow. Otherwise Demeter would probably never have stepped foot on Olympos again, for real this time. His miscalculation when it came to giving Persephone to Hades to marry without talking to Demeter first had been bad enough.

Now though, as Hera took a surprised but for once only entirely grateful Demeter and Hestia out and away from the feasting hall, there was not one person in this room that could offer enough distraction for Zeus _not_ to fall to the insistent desire that'd been simmering for over a year by now. At least he didn't immediately get up or call Ganymede to himself to leave that second, but it was a near thing. He did get up, but only to walk over to Hades and Persephone. Perhaps what he needed was to burn through it. The kisses hadn't been enough, had merely inflamed his want further, but perhaps taking Ganymede to his bed would finally excise this anomalous interest. Especially if he exercised some care in how deeply he dipped into the cup the boy was by now definitely offering...

"I see you two are taking advantage of the situation," Zeus said as he came up to the couple, Persephone's gleaming mass of red hair completely undone and being gently combed through by a pale, long-fingered hand.

"Just a little." Persephone had a small grin on her lips, though Hades rolled his eyes at the jab but didn't dispute it. Nonetheless there was definitely a warmth in his grey eyes, and the look he flicked up to Zeus could just as well have spelled his gratitude out. A bonus, definitely. More so of a one now that Persephone seemed to be talking to him again, though he hadn't done this for them. "So I suppose I really should to thank you, Father. And I'm sure Hebe is pleased as well."

Chuckling to hide his surprise, Zeus glanced over to where Hebe was now talking to Ares, Ganymede still caught among the Muses, and nodded.

"She was making less and less of a fine point regarding her duties, and she wasn't very accepting when I informed her Apollo had performed the task for a lot longer than she had before he stepped down from it. But she is, and since she gets along with Ganymede too, that's even better."

Somehow, he managed not to glance over to where Ganymede had been last when he'd looked.

"He's skilled," Hades said quietly, then arched an eyebrow, "even if that's apparently not why you chose him?"

Zeus laughed loudly, shameless and easy as he waved Hades' pointed look off. As if waving Hades’ observation off would protect against the underlying implication.

"Beauty as that shouldn't be wasted on a short life," he proclaimed, and though Hades rolled his eyes, there was a soft noise in the back of his throat that was as much of an agreement as he would give. There really _was_ no way to dispute that Ganymede deserved his position here from that alone.

Zeus left Persephone and Hades to enjoy each other's company, though he foresaw them disappearing soon, to take advantage of this single night. From there he made sure to take a small circle around the hall, pausing by Aglaia, Thalia, Pasithea, Artemis and Eileithyia and ending up by Athena, who smiled thinly at him.

"Don't look now. Hades and Persephone are leaving," she said, her little smile turning faintly lopsided, and Zeus obediently didn't turn around, just nodded and raised his kylix - empty.

"Wine, my lord, Lady Athena?"

Ganymede's timing was either impeccable or a curse.

"Thank you, Prince Ganymede. I think Father isn't thirsty, though." Athena's expression was placid, her voice cool. It was impossible to say if she knew what he was lusting for and didn't approve, or was coolly disapproving but teasing him, or didn't know and merely assumed he wasn't actually looking for more to drink. Ganymede, he saw in the bottom edge of his vision, shot him a quizzical look but obediently filled Athena's kylix before she stood up. "You're a pleasure, Ganymede."

"Hebe's a good teacher," he said, sweet honesty warming his voice further, and Athena blinked, then shook her head with a little smile and brushed a hand over his shoulder as she passed them, walking over to where the Muses were arranging themselves into a choir for Apollo while Angelos pulled Ares with her to dance. Ganymede looked up at him, frowning.

"... _Did_ you want more wine, my lord?"

Did he?

No.

No, what he wanted was something else entirely, and it was time to admit to it.

"Come with me, Ganymede." He did not wait for an answer, merely took the jug from Ganymede's hands, put it and his kylix down on the nearest flat surface, grabbed the nearest wrist, so slim and vulnerable in his grip, and pulled him out of feasting hall.

###### 

His pulse loud in his ears and twisting like the hydra in his chest, Ganymede nonetheless felt only nervous anticipation as he was dragged down the corridors, no dread. Not merely because Zeus was handsome, though he was, terribly so in fact and Ganymede often did his best not to linger too long lest his staring be noticed. It was also because he could see there was at least the beginnings of a place that was his here, regardless of what happened after what would undoubtedly be happening tonight. The two were not connected (not much, anyway), and the evening had gone well up until Zeus pulled him out of the hall; he could do what he'd been brought here to do. It brought a sense of confident calm to the rest of his situation, at least. The other half was a half-aroused, nervous mess that wanted without Ganymede being sure how much he did want to want, or how much he _should_ want.

He still wanted it, though.

Wanted it like he wanted to stretch up on the absolute tips of his toes and reach up to brush the bare flashes of skin he could see of the back of Zeus' neck as his hair swayed with his steps, the strong curve of muscle dipping down underneath the tunic's collar. Wanted it like he wanted Zeus to kiss him again, breathless and overwhelming, and not just because it was practically impossible to think and be worried about anything while it happened.

Still, as they crossed the open court and turned down the corridor, a partially waxing moon only just peeking over the edge of the skylight, Ganymede felt the stirrings of actual worry creep back. They turned into ropes which wound around the cautious anticipation and his ankles both when they passed the corridor his rooms were in, Zeus clearly aiming for the rooms further down.

"Zeus---" Ganymede flushed, inside out and all the way down to the tips of his toes hearing Zeus' name fall from his lips so easily in his distraction, but Zeus didn't so much as pause, which was entirely unhelpful if reassuring for not having done anything wrong. Ganymede still dug his heels in against the floor, which didn't really do much to slow the god, making it so much clearer than usual how easily Zeus could manhandle him. Destroy him, honestly. Maybe that should be worrying. Maybe that should be concerning, but instead his gut tightened along with his cock. He really wasn’t worrying about that part, honestly. Zeus had said he did not wish him harmed. The intensity of the words, the burning seriousness in his tone and on his face were still easily remembered, and while Zeus undoubtedly could probably hurt him in many, many ways without noticing or intending to, Ganymede believed the promise nonetheless. That had nothing to do with his current concern, and so he still tried. " _My lord_ , what about---"

Couldn't finish, didn't dare finish for fear it would call the wrong attention. Finally, Zeus glanced over his shoulder, a flash of burning silver that made Ganymede's heart skip. There was a small smirk on his face, even as, after a beat, he shook his head, marginally more serious suddenly.

"I wouldn't take you to my marriage bed, Ganymede. You belong in another bed entirely." And maybe that should have been condescending. Might have been had the tone been different, if Zeus' expression had been less hotly intent and if Zeus hadn't finished the sentence by a further couple words. " _My_ bed, and mine alone, my prince."

Heat like lightning struck through him and Ganymede blushed, watching Zeus' bright eyes darken like thunderclouds, charged and threatening to unleash untold power. He had to look away lest he embarrass himself. Swallowing heavily, Ganymede stopped trying to slow them down, though it wasn't like he'd really had any affect on their progress down the corridor. They didn't walk very far, in the end, though it was still further down than Ganymede had gone himself after the initial realization of how close he actually slept to Zeus. He'd tried his best not to give too much thought to it, but the realization that he must have been put into rooms that had belonged to at least some of his children at some point had been... a surprise, to say the least.

Right now, he supposed it'd just be useful after... well, _after_ this. Thought for later, either way. Ganymede dropped it as the doors opened before them without any help from either of them. He didn't get much of a look past Zeus' broad frame even if he was curious. All he had the time for was a brief glance that revealed a bed larger than any he'd seen before, definitely larger than even Zeus would need, a couch and chair with a small table, its three legs carved into breathtaking likeliness of a bull's hooves and a couple scrolls on top of it. If there was more it'd have to wait, for Ganymede found himself airborne right then.

"Ah---!" The gentle impact of his back against the door slid it closed the last little bit, and Ganymede laughed, startled but amused - and, admittedly, with Zeus' large hands cupping his thighs and ass, gently kneading soft skin and leaning in to kiss him while his legs dangled on each side of those broad forearms, turned on. He hoped Zeus hadn't noticed. Not the particular reason for his reaction, anyway! There was plenty of Zeus to be aroused by anyway, so Ganymede was hardly at any risk of revealing anything he might not wish to, he hoped. Just the sliding scrape of Zeus' beard against his chin and cheek sent tingles down his nerves, tiny little chills next to the raging bonfire not so carefully stoked by the kiss, the fingers pressing against sensitive skin, rubbing the sea silk against him. Had Zeus been _holding back_ before, when it came to the kissing?

Didn't matter; he was getting it in full, now, and heated, breathless distraction gave Ganymede enough daring to let go of Zeus' biceps and slowly slide curious, cautious hands up over petal-soft skin, over the broad curve of Zeus' shoulders and the solid muscle there, in closer to his neck. A fine little tremble followed when Ganymede's slender fingers stole in under the fall of Zeus' dark hair, stroking the skin usually covered at the back, rubbing through the fine, short hair at the base of the neck. Zeus groaned, a rumble from his chest that rattled thunderous vibration into the kiss, down into Ganymede's bones, and pulled away with a shake of his head, staring up at him with eyes dark as night. It was exceedingly strange to be _looking down_ at Zeus for once.

"You'll be the death of me, boy..." Zeus muttered, and Ganymede was caught by the torn darkness in Zeus' eyes, the twist of his mouth, both which contrasted against the softness of his voice when he'd called him _boy_. Blinking, he slowly pulled a hand back, the other still grasping Zeus' neck and gently touched the sharp jut of one cheekbone.

"... Only a little one, right? That's the _point_ isn't it, piḫaššaššiš? I should think I couldn't make you waste enough to kill the King of the Gods!" He dared to make it teasing, a smile stealing onto his face unbidden but careful, and watched Zeus' lips thin - then he laughed, loud and warm as he leaned in, latching onto the apple of Ganymede's throat until Ganymede jerked and gasped from the nipping the sucking kiss turned into.

"Be careful with your words," Zeus said, rumbling against his throat, but there was not a trace of forbidding weight in his voice, and Ganymede laughed, as much for the rejoinder as realizing the width he could reach for talking back to Zeus was definitely a lot greater than he had imagined. Laughter which turned breathless, almost into a yelp as he was swung around, Zeus either only needing a few steps to cross the floor or having simply gone from the door to the side of his bed in a single, cheating step so he could drop Ganymede onto the bed.

Setting a knee on the edge of the bed, Zeus leaned in, a hand on a slim, shapely ankle, thumb lightly stroking the graceful protrusion of the ankle joint as he loomed in over Ganymede. Wide-eyed and flushed, a fine little shiver running through him as that hand slid up along his leg, smooth and frictionless - maybe it really wasn't so bad that he'd lost the hair there. Ganymede bit his lip and, though he tried, realized that he'd have to sit up to reach for anything but Zeus' arms and upper chest; he couldn't even try to undo the belt from here. And moving, as Zeus reached the bottom of the kilt and slowly started to slide it up along his thigh, exposing the thin loincloth underneath that was definitely adding uncomfortable pressure over his growing erection, was impossible.

Not that he couldn't have moved; there was nothing restraining him except for the creep of Zeus' hand, the look in his eyes - Ganymede was breathless just from the weight alone. It was, then, maybe not surprising that he couldn't hold back the startled protest, wordless but wanting, when Zeus left the kilt half rucked up and shifted back down again. He would have sat up except for the hand squeezing his thigh in warning.

"Stay there." Gray eyes pinned him into place, and Ganymede flopped down again. A gasp spilled out when Zeus kissed his knee, beard scraping the inner side of it, and he, oh. His sandals, of course.

Slowly, they were untied in turn and tossed to the floor, Ganymede's laughter turning into little gasps every time Zeus dropped a hot, open-mouthed kiss along his calves, over the top of his feet or toes, then up to his knees again. Zeus, Ganymede could see, was clearly not wearing anything that could be considered underwear under his tunic. Not by the way he was tenting it. Flushing hotly, he sucked his bottom lip in under his teeth, jumping when large hands came to his waist.

Zeus was looming again, and Ganymede knew exactly how tall and broad the god was, but lying on his back and having him tower over him as he undid the belt made him seem even larger. Like he could crush him just by laying down on him, the physical size of Olympos’ ruling god emphasizing his power and control. And maybe he _could_. Ganymede groaned, hips tilting up as Zeus tugged the kilt away and then, with light, teasing fingers, took the loincloth too.

And if the Lord of Olympos paused with his newly-immortal treasure spread out naked before him for the first time, flushed from his shining green eyes all the way down to the restless shift of his feet against silk-slick and cloud-soft sheets, staring down at Ganymede's face as much as at the ruddy heaving of his sleek chest and the jutting hardness, unfamiliar from this angle as it was for him, who would know? Ganymede was a fair bit too distracted to notice the fine details in the way Zeus lingered, large hands spread out over trim hips and pinning them down simply by the act of resting there, feeling the youth shift minutely against them. 

Finally, he slid one hand in and curled it with a slowness that was as much tease as, perhaps, hesitation, and Ganymede gasped, arching up into the touch as his head tipped back, his throat a begging arch while his mouth fell open. It really wasn't the same as when he used his own hand on himself, but it was equally not at all like whenever Nikomedes had put his hand on him either. How such a simple thing could be different when it involved the same two things, Ganymede didn't understand, but then, one was mortal and the other was a god. And Zeus' hand was larger than Nikomedes' was, warm and soft and it seemed like there was a thrumming current of power right underneath the skin. It was something that had been only suggested while Zeus' hands had been on him elsewhere, but in such a sensitive place it now burned with as much potential pleasure as threat.

The hand around him didn't move, and while Ganymede _wished it would_ , if it didn't, he would accept that. Whatever Zeus wanted. _Anything_ , just as long as he didn't stop. Or nearly anything. Ganymede still wasn't sure what he wanted to happen from here, but he did not want it to stop.

"My lord---" Moaning, he finally managed to find the control needed to open his eyes and look up at Zeus, and surely it was just his imagination that the god trembled like a leaf in the wind? The hand around him, giving a single squeeze that made Ganymede shudder, was pulled away. He wouldn't have protested, not verbally anyway, but Ganymede could still feel the protest in his body, silent and desperate. He didn't need to worry, however.

"Turn around," Zeus commanded, and he didn't imagine the growling shortness, the way the sound was catching somewhere deep in Zeus' chest, setting a sympathetic vibration off in Ganymede's, especially so when Zeus' voice dropped yet further as he continued, "on your hands and knees."

Swallowing, Ganymede nodded. Rolled around and found his balance enough to obey, though like this, with nothing but air against his overheated skin and arousal, he might have cried for the lack of stimulation. Behind him there was the shift of fabric, and Ganymede realized only then he was missing out on seeing Zeus naked. Hopefully he would have the chance another time...

"Here. Closer."

"Ah---" Surprised to find his thighs pressed firmly together, Ganymede obligingly kept them there when Zeus let go, gripping a hip in one hand and sliding his other in under Ganymede. It was a slightly awkward proposition despite Zeus' great reach, but it didn't matter. Not when a firm, solid hardness, soft like silk, pressed between his thighs and nudged along his balls, then the bottom of his erection, with Zeus' hand closing around the rest. "Z--- _piḫaššaššiš_."

Shuddering at the sensation, surprised at what was happening at all. Zeus had chosen something that Ganymede hadn’t thought of it all, and this was both hot and a startling relief. Any remaining worry disappeared like water soaked up by dry earth; he could definitely do this and loose himself in the enjoyment of it. Anything else, anything _more_ , could be considered later, if there was any later. 

Did he _want_ there to be more, later? Yes. Definitely so, Ganymede realized right then, but he didn't dare assume. Those were brief thoughts, there and gone in the heat of growing flames. The rest was taken up by Ganymede's spiralling attention narrowing down to the feel of Zeus' hard cock sliding between his thighs, driving harder at every pass as Zeus found his rhythm. The skin of his inner thighs were thin, and grew more sensitive at every thrust, sending sparks and liquid tingles up into the base of his cock, joining the shuddering sensation from the way the head of Zeus' erection stroked his balls as he pushed through and past his thighs, pushed him slightly forward every time into Zeus' hand, along the bed.

Arms trembling where he was clutching the sheets, his thighs quivering along with them, Ganymede could hear himself let out little noises every time Zeus thrust into his thighs and ground against him, matched by a tightening squeeze of Zeus hand, quicker every time until Zeus was continuously half twisting his hand around the top half of Ganymede's cock while he relentlessly drove himself into the silky quiver of Ganymede's thighs around him. How long this lasted, he couldn't have said, for time stopped making sense or to matter. What was important was the crackling sensation of Zeus' presence behind him, heavier than his physical body was, as impossible as that seemed, for that alone was already more imposing than any mortal could ever be. It took up everything else, soaked into the rhythm of Zeus moving behind him, pressing in against the back of his thighs, pulling back, again and again.

"Ganymede---" Zeus groaned suddenly, loud and deep, and somehow, that was enough. With a wounded little noise and collapsing on his arms, Ganymede came into and all over Zeus' hand, his trembling thighs stiffening around the length forcing its way between them. Zeus shuddered, thrusting through Ganymede's orgasm, and then came.

He was still hard.

And as he simply continued, Ganymede could feel himself grow hard again as well. Contrary to what he had become used to when he'd gotten himself off before, while he was still mortal, the sensation of Zeus' hand around him right after orgasm wasn't unbearable. Instead it made him thrust mindlessly right into the hand, back against Zeus' weight, drive his growing renewed hardness to peak even quicker.

Zeus was louder when he came the second time, and Ganymede, face still buried in the covers, shook as he was brought into his second orgasm from the way the shuddering hardness between his legs nudged along the bottom of his cock and slid against his balls.

This time, Zeus fell against him, and if Ganymede had been human he would surely have broken a couple bones or been smothered against the mattress. There was also sparking heat against his skin from what surely was gathered lightning, though on a much smaller scale than the bolts Zeus could throw. Had he not been immortal, that might have, if not incinerated him, then at least probably burned him. All he felt, though, was the thunderous, warm weight of Zeus' body against his, pressing down. Sure, it wasn't entirely comfortable as heavy and huge as Zeus was, but power crackled against his back while Zeus calmed, and Zeus' softening godhead was still between his thighs, nestled there like Zeus didn't intend to leave.

Ganymede found he rather liked it.

Which was why he distinctly groaned when Zeus moved away and then moved him, too, the first noise of unrestrained complaint, even edging into demand that Ganymede had probably at all made. "Piḫaššaššiš---"

"Hush, Ganymede." He was pulled away from what was actually a rather uncomfortably sticky spot, but Ganymede didn't care. He didn't want to move. He didn't want this to be over. He didn't _want to leave_. Whatever Zeus did, the drying come was simply _gone_ with only the teasing weight of Zeus' hand passing over his thighs and stomach, and when he was laid down again, the bed was as dry and clean as could be wished. With a sigh, Ganymede pushed himself up on his arms - and found himself fully back on the bed not a second later, his back against Zeus and a huge, warm arm wrapped around him and quite decisively pinning him in place.

"... My lord?" 

He'd thought...

"Sleep, my prince. You've deserved it, and I am of no mind to move." Zeus' voice was a soft, dark rumble, warm in the now-shadowed room somewhere above Ganymede's head. So he didn't... have to leave? Surprise as well as pleasure melted Ganymede against Zeus' body, warm and solid all along him, from the back of his head down to his heels. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, one hand hesitantly coming up to lay with bird-like caution against the back of Zeus hand where it was at his middle. He spread it out fully, and yet he could only just grasp around the edges of it. He wasn't shaken off, and Ganymede smiled in the darkness.

"Of course, piḫaššaššiš."

###### 

Gods could not commit hubris, but foolishness knew no masters and struck all as equally as Eros' arrows did. Zeus had been very foolish indeed, to think he could have so much as a single sip from Ganymede's lips and not want more, to think he could quench the thirst that'd sprung thereof by tasting shallowly of the youth's perfect body.

It did not work that way.

Awake for more than an hour by now, Eos herself not awake quite yet as she never rose before the first blush of light, but certainly never slept past it either, Zeus stared down at the sleek, silky shimmer of Ganymede's curls in the downy predawn shadows. Either the youth had turned towards him sometime during the night or he'd pulled the boy around himself in his sleep, for Ganymede slept with half his face pressed against the solid curve of Zeus' chest, face slack in sweet repose and a delicate shadow cast against the top of his cheekbones from the thick lace fringe of his lashes. He'd curled up somewhat, a small foot stuck in between Zeus legs to hook around one of his knees, and a slim arm splayed with sleep-heavy ease over Zeus' waist, the very tips of petal-soft fingertips brushing against the skin of his back every time Ganymede breathed.

He'd aimed for something that he'd thought would be safely contained, yesterday. He'd failed even before he'd turned the boy around; maybe if he'd thrown him on the bed face-first and not let him turn around, he might have succeeded. Maybe if he hadn't picked him up to kiss him against the door he might have avoided this, the instant, flaming ache that’d come of seeing Ganymede's face flushed with arousal, eager heat making his green eyes practically glow. Maybe if he'd gagged him, he wouldn't have had the sweet voice gasping need straight into his heart.

Maybe, maybe.

None of that would have diminished the supple body he'd touched, was still touching; the squeeze of Ganymede's thighs, the shy, needy twitches into his hand as he'd clasped Ganymede's erection. He was an unutterable delight, and all Zeus now wanted was to explore _more_ if it, see it from every angle conceivable, make that beautiful tenor sing out in need and praise.

Foolishness punished itself.

Despite this, Zeus found himself not really regretting any single action that'd led to this, to this exquisite delight of a boy sleeping in his arms. Not that he ever regretted any of his... escapades, not as such, anyway, but he had truly expected the exception to have burned itself out, now. Instead, as he studied Ganymede's sleeping profile, he wanted even more to keep him right where he was, no matter how surprising and, still, a little confusing that was. There were similarities to enjoying a male body as it was to do such with a woman, of course, but the differences were undeniable, even when he'd went about it like he had.

Perhaps there was still a sense of newness to it, and that was what accounted for the need burning itself deep into his heart. Perhaps.

Either way, Ganymede would be going nowhere for now.

Aside from, perhaps, into his bath and then onto the couch for breakfast. As much as he'd like to leave his prince asleep, he had things to do and he was selfish enough to want Ganymede's presence as he got ready for the day. In service of that, Zeus curled down and around the youth, pulling him close to whisper in his ear as dawn started to colour the sky outside.

###### 

Zeus had had to fight Ganymede's innate love of late mornings before he'd managed to wake the Trojan prince up, but Ganymede couldn't say he was entirely cross for the early wakeup call. The bath had been fantastic, and eating breakfast leaning against Zeus had been even better. Now, though, the rest of the day wasn't going to wait any longer, and Ganymede was contemplating having a nap after he found some new clothes. Not that the kilt was dirty; it was more because it didn't seem quite right to be walking around in the sea silk kilt when the occasion didn't ask for it, no matter how soft it was against his skin and how great it looked.

Shooting Zeus a quick, shy smile, Ganymede reached for the door to his corridor, and was immediately hindered to go any further by Zeus grabbing that wrist.

"Come with me a little further."

It wasn't a question, and Ganymede laughed even while his heart might have tripped briefly for the way Zeus was stroking the inside of his wrist with his thumb.

"Okay."

That Zeus actually waited until he agreed to pull him down the hallway towards the open court was a surprise, though Ganymede wouldn't have cared if he hadn't. They crossed the open court, glowing softly in the light just barely falling in through the skylight, the marble pale, butter yellow and the columns half shining, half cast in shadow. Shadow Ganymede found himself pressed into as Zeus leaned down, grabbed his waist and thighs and hauled him up against the nearest pillar, a hand sliding in among his curls.

"Oh! Wait, uh, my lord---" Ganymede's protest got no further, and his alarmed attention as he tried glancing around if anyone was there to see snapped back to Zeus when he kissed him, slow and unrelenting. Zeus' hand tightened in his hair, palm cradling half his skull it felt like as the kiss deepened, turning his insides liquid hot. Ganymede forgot his concern about anyone being able to see and wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders within so easy reach when he was up here and pressed into the kiss.

When Zeus pulled back, a dark-eyed, lazily pleased smile on his face, Ganymede ducked his head away from it, cheeks hot and lips tingling from the kiss.

"Don't do that, my prince, or I'm going to kiss you again." Zeus' voice was a rumbling whisper as he leaned in to press a kiss to Ganymede's curls over his ear and Ganymede exhaled in a sharp huff, not quite a laugh. That wouldn't be so bad, he thought...

Nonetheless, Zeus dropped him down to his feet and, with a last brush of knuckles to his cheek, turned down towards the corridor. Steadying himself, Ganymede threw one last look over at Zeus' broad back and the liquid fall of dark hair about his shoulders before he disappeared around the corner and flushed again. 

With the heat of the kiss still lingering on his lips and low in his gut, he smothered a smile and turned to go back to his room. Wondered why he'd been so hesitant and confused about all this to start with, for it really was quite fantastic. Ganymede was still smiling when he crossed the little open court with a spring in his step - and froze as Hera came down the stairs from the upper floor. If he could have hoped that she might not already know, or might not immediately figure out what had happened during the night, the way her bright, lovely eyes darkened to match the terrifying twist of the rest of her expression put paid to any such thoughts.

The scariest thing was she was still utterly radiant in her fury as she stormed up to him, the bottom of her dress dancing like waves on a dark ocean. This had been _one_ of his fears, Ganymede now remembered. Remembered well, further, that it was a very healthy and real fear to have.

"M-my lady---"

"Spare me," Hera snapped as she stopped in front of him, towering and light-crowned. She wasn't as tall as Zeus - perhaps around half a head shorter, but that still made her among the tallest of the gods, and even if she would’ve been shorter than that she would still have appeared like Olympos itself at the moment. Ganymede flinched when she reached out, but all Hera did was grasp his chin and tip his face up. It was an utterly perfunctorily and practical grip, firm and on the edge of unforgiving, but not bruising. It merely made it very clear how lightly tender every such gesture from Zeus had been, even right when Ganymede had first been brought here. "You are lucky you're both exquisitely skilled at your given task and as beautiful as no mortal should be able to be or has ever been before, Prince Ganymede."

Ganymede didn't dare say anything, for he wasn't sure where Hera was going with this, aside from that she apparently liked watching him in his work _just enough_ not to immediately vaporise him? So he just stared up at her, still and quiet as if that might make her pass by like a raptor bird might pass a quivering rabbit or mouse hiding next to a rock or the base of a tree. Hera's mouth flattened and she snorted, but whether she was even the tiniest bit pleased or further enraged by his silence, Ganymede couldn't tell.

"You will have your place here, for your mere presence _is_ an honour to us... and an honour you don't deserve to shine on your house, Iliades." Hera's eyes were narrow, with only a faintest glimmer of gold revealing their real, warm colour. "Though more fault lies with my husband, of course. He brought you here himself with no choice left for you. But he'll tire, in time, for even unfamiliar charms will grow familiar and old, no matter how lovely and new they are at the moment. He always does, even when the cup holds more familiar wine, such that he returns to again and again. What then?"

Now, Ganymede blushed, dropping his eyes away from the radiant goddess, bright in her fury and jealousy. He hoped the plunging cold of his stomach at her words wasn't obvious to her, for it was hardly his right to feel that way. Selfishly, it was also that he didn't want to be smugly mocked for her words having found their mark.

"Then." Ganymede swallowed, dared a tiny shrug. "I'll still have been honoured and blessed and given something I shouldn't have had at all even if it was brief, Queen Hera."

He could hardly believe how steady the words came, how nearly nonchalantly accepting he sounded, for Ganymede could feel both the cringing fear of Hera's justified wrath as well as something fragile and just barely formed, tender and soft all the way from its outside to its vulnerable core. He didn't _want_ it to be over quickly, not when it'd now happened and he found it was neither as unsettling as he'd feared nor as unwanted as he'd thought. But how long could Zeus really stay interested in him, when he was an exception to what the god clearly usually preferred when it came to love's play? It was a thought too large for Ganymede's new feelings and threatened to give Hera what she was probably looking for. Somehow, he managed to stand there, watching her mouth, beautiful even in the subtle snarl her lips were pulled back in, until she let go of his chin.

Air rushed back in, and Ganymede could swear his ears popped with the change in pressure.

"We'll see," Hera said, her voice as sharp as the glance she gave him as she strode past him, but she paused by the corner he'd come from earlier, not looking over her shoulder as she continued, "Hebe was looking for you."

"... Thank you, my lady." Ganymede didn't wait for Hera to leave, he fled. Didn't even get that change of clothing he'd intended; in the end, the sea-silk kilt was still fine to wear, and changing it could wait. He just couldn't bear to stay in that area of the palace for now. Deeply grateful when, finding Hebe on a bench outside the entrance by the path down to the propylon, she took one look at him, hooked her arm in his, and held up her astragali pouch.

"Come, let's win back the astragali Eros cheated you out of. With the two of us, he won't stand a chance."

Whether that was actually what she'd wanted him for or not, Ganymede relaxed as they walked off towards Aphrodite's palace. The contrasting mundane goal of getting redress for being cheated out of that first gift soothed his upset and guilt both and let him recapture some of the shy wonder he'd woken up with. There really was no other way but forward, no matter how long anything else lasted.


End file.
